How does someone handle death when the dying or dead person doesn’t know Christ? Do they have any comfort?
They don’t.
They won’t.
They can’t.
Unless they lie to themselves. The reality is that person is not in a better place, and while it may be true that you will one day see them again, it may not be in Heaven.
It’s been one month since I lost my dear Dr. Cope, and it’s been a few days since we heard there are only days left for Shane’s grandfather to live.
I’m still grieving the one I lost a month ago, and now the grief expounds.
I stare at the sweet man, whom my husband has loved his whole life, in the hospital bed while he sleeps. He musters the strength to open his eyes every few minutes to see who’s there. He coughs in fits and can barely move. All I can think is: he’s about to see Jesus. And what a comfort that is!
Then, all I can think is how I don’t want to go through the death of someone I love without the certainty that they will be with Christ. How much worse would this sting! How much more horrible it makes death!
I want to send a text, an email, or a letter to everyone I love (hear me if you’re reading this) and tell them to repent and believe in Christ if they haven’t! Or to persevere in faith until the end if they have!
Being in Christ is the only thing that matters as you lie dying.
Recently, a group I attended asked everyone to tell something unique about themselves. I couldn’t think of a thing while there, but I remembered something later. I almost died twice. I was in a car accident 17 years ago this week where I flew out of the car and woke up on the asphalt. While I walked out of the hospital with minor injuries, it was clear I could have died if I would have had my seatbelt on (which I always wore but had just gotten into my friends car and hadn’t fastened it before we got struck). Somehow the glass of the passenger side window shattered before I flew through it (I had no cuts from glass), and I escaped before the door crushed the seat where I would have been.
The second time, I suffered from Hyponatremia during a 10,000 meter track race in college. Under the medical tent, I struggled to breathe as my heart rate stayed around 180 bpm an hour after I finished running. I could hear people talking to me, but I couldn’t respond. The effort for each breath felt so hard, I wanted to give up. I wanted Jesus to end it and just take me! But soon the ambulance got there, got me fluids, and I came back to myself.
I often think of how I felt during each of these experiences. The first experience had the afterthought of I could have died. The second experience had that too but also the before-thought of I’m about to die. God used these two tragedies to produce a gratitude towards him for sparing my life and a desire for him above life itself.
There is no fear of death for the believer, for in dying we gain greatly. I think this as I remember the death of one of the most godly men I knew. I know this as I watch another man of God getting closer to glory.
What hope does he who has not Christ have in death?
None.
And he who does?
Immense hope.
Beautifully written