Letting Go

(typed May 8, but posted on May 9)

Sometimes, we come to a point of understanding and comfort in letting go of a person we love dearly. It often seems foreign, strange, or wrong to those around us who haven't yet reached that same point of view. And that's okay. It also doesn't always mean that we, in being comfortable with somone's death, are hoping for it. Of course, we can hope against hope when all looks bleak. Jesus raised Lazurus after 4 days in the tomb. He himself was raised after 3 days. God doesn't need for a person to be at some certain threshold of health to still be able to fix them. He also doesn't choose to fix everyone who gets really sick.

As I type this, I am sitting by my father's bed side in the hospital. His body has been ravaged by cancer, and yet even further still by dehydration, malnutrition, and strong doses of chemotherapy drugs. He has no energy in and of himself. He sleeps. He eats ice chips. The nurses turn him to help him deal with bed sores. Occasionally, he comes to from the morphine enough, and musters up enough strength to talk for a short while. Those times are a real blessing. But, there's not really much of my dad left inside this shell of a person.

That's really sad to me. Sometimes it causes me to cry, to weep for the fear of being without my dad, one of my best friends, for the rest of my life. But, always I know that it's okay. Always, God gives me comfort. The truth of God's word brings great comfort to my mind, body and soul. I am praying for miraculous healing for my dad right now. But, I know that death has no finality to it, when one is alive in Christ. Death brings comfort for the sick when their comfort is found in Christ. Death brings reward for the one who's treasures are not stored up in this life, but in our own resurrection, where we identify with Christ, and are raised up as co-heirs into God's glory. Death brings perfect peace, joy and eternal happiness when one knows the Lord.

If my dad should die, now, in two weeks, six months, or 20 years, when he does, he will not be far from me. Not only will I be able to see him throughout eternity, but even now, for the rest of my life, I will know that he is still as much as ever a living and active part of my family in God. Not just some idea or memory of what my dad once was. Instead, my very dad will be more alive than me, since my body is still dying all the time. Once we are with God fully, we are incorruptable, and need not fear sickness, death, or any of the things we currently think of as "bad". In God's presence, we will understand joy... real joy. And peace... real peace. We will not suffer. In this life we suffer some, for a while. It grows character in us and causes us to know more fully the things God purposes for us to know. And that's good. My dad understands that. My mom and my brother and I do to. We hope against hope for his life, but we will also be comforted in his death, knowing he's the lucky one, the first one of us that gets to fully understand glorifying God and enjoying Him forever.