When Death Comes

Death has been heavy on my heart this week.

Two of my friends in Billings are facing medical crises that lead them both to consider seriously that their time on this earth may be drawing to a close. None of us knows the length of our days, to be sure. And God alone marks out the span of our lives. But sometimes, we know that we are facing medical diagnoses that, apart from God’s supernatural working, will more than likely be the secondary cause of our last breath. Such is the case with my friends.

And on Monday? Someone I love dearly went home to Heaven. She had been suffering so terribly that her death is actually a great release. For her. But for her husband and sons? Her sister and friends? It is a great loss. A painful, albeit temporary, goodbye that lends a somber tone to even the normalcy of my quiet week at home.

But the heaviest weight I am bearing this week regarding the finality of physical death is tied to my mother’s rapidly progressing heart failure. Modern medicine affords us many strange glimpses into the dying process. And this week, on my mother’s birthday, I learned that just since my visit with her in September, her heart function has decreased from 25% to 15%. She may still have years with us–we dearly hope so! But she is very sick and it would be naive for us to not be facing the fact that she may die soon.

This makes me deeply sad. I love my mom; not just in an obligatory/everyone should love their mom sort of way. She is my good friend. She has been incredibly supportive and encouraging of me as I have tried to be a good wife and mother. She asks questions about our lives and waits to listen for our responses. We talk about important things and daily, simple things. I hate the thought of her dying and I hate the thought of her not being in our lives.

But one thing I am very grateful for is the fact that I have an open heart towards my mother. We do not have a list of offenses or a history of a broken relationship. Past hurts have been forgiven—by both of us. I know that I have prayed for her salvation for 25+ years now and I have shared the gospel with her in person, in writing, on the phone, and every other way I could possibly try. I have helped her with tangible helps. I have said many words of gratitude and encouragement to her. We can look one another in the eye and have the best relationship possible. This is a great grace and I do not take it for granted.

I do, however, grieve for her suffering and for the enemy that death is. Even for the Christian, dying is not easy. But thankfully, it is only a transition to our real home.

I’ll close with my favorite John Donne poem: