What a heavy couple of months. Well, I guess the whole year, truth be told. I intended to write about the very beginning of our story because this is our anniversary month (and I will!), but this week has brought more pressing thoughts to the surface. I’ve done some serious soul-searching in 2020, asked myself and the Lord countless questions. About everything.
One of my dear friends and prayer partners unexpectedly lost her 19 year old son this week. I love this family so much. They faithfully serve the Lord and those around them, using every opportunity to not only tell the lost about Jesus, but show them the love of Jesus. They’ve already walked through some deep waters, but this week they found themselves in a sudden and unforeseen storm. As I’ve prayed and cried and searched the Word on their behalf, I have been haunted, once again, by my own thoughts and questions.
Life is so fragile. Living in an independent nation, surrounded by affluence, health, entertainment, prosperity, abundance, justice, choice, you can almost forget. I actually think about this pretty often because we lived many years overseas surrounded by people who live in abject poverty, whose collective voice goes unheard by their leaders. Moving back to America, the contrast is so stark.
But death is the great equalizer. The richest man on earth will still die the same death of the poorest man. And that rich man will not take one thing with him when his life is over. Not one.
We will all die. It is the one guarantee in this life. We can’t run from it. We can’t delay it.
Because I believe in a good and loving and sovereign and reigning Creator God, I also believe that our very days have been numbered from the beginning of time. When my days are complete, I too, will face death. But it is difficult to comprehend when children, full of life and youthfulness and potential and promise, die. It’s unexpected, but none-the-less under the absolute and supreme power of God.
I have personally wrestled with our frailty and the idea of death. As I watch my youngest grow, never knowing when a virus or a seizure or even kidney failure may steal him away from us. And when I watch my oldest drive away from home, stretching his wings further and further, I’m wholly aware that safety is never a guarantee. When I watch my dad’s body struggle to fight an unknown, debilitating force, I’m certainly aware that his days are numbered.
So when I hugged my friend’s neck this week, I came to her as one who trusts completely in the timing and goodness of God but also struggles to reconcile the loss people face in this life.
Friends, it’s ok to ask questions. To cry. Even to scream. But please end up at the feet of Jesus. He knows death. But, oh glory, He knows LIFE.
I’m certain this year has caused many of us to ask ourselves what is truly important. Many of the superficial things have been stripped away. Many families have been confronted with sickness and death. Many of us have been asked to sacrifice for the sake of others.
At the very end of it all, though, the only thing that matters is this truth of life and death. And there’s only one person who offers the hope and the peace and the joy that comes with the assurance of eternal life.
Jesus.
The Way, the Truth, and the Life.
You may argue otherwise. You may call, “foul!” Or think I use that as a crutch. Oh, but I know. I have tasted and seen that the Lord is good. I will testify of Him for as many days as God gives me on this earth, and then I’ll worship Him for all of eternity.
We can love others, show kindness, embrace our differences, help others, even give our very lives in service to others, but if we only do those things and don’t proclaim the Good News, the gospel of Jesus Christ, what good have we done? We fall woefully short without telling others the Good News.
This is how God is challenging me these days. When confronted with death, yet again, I’m reminded of what is truly important when it’s all said and done. This is true for all of us, from the lowliest to the greatest. Oh Father, forgive me for not stewarding the gospel well.
Paul declares the gospel time and again in the New Testament. As we approach this season of Christmas, let us look with fresh eyes at the gospel. “‘And they shall call his name Immanuel’ (which means, God with us.)”
God came near.
Who is this Immanuel?
Please read this passage out loud, slowly, with emphasis, marveling at who He is.
He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation. For by him all things were created, in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or authorities–all things were created through him and for him. And he is before all things, and in him all things hold together. And he is the head of the body, the church. He is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead, that in everything he might be preeminent. For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, making peace by the blood of the his cross. Colossians 1:15-20
That tiny baby born in Bethlehem was all the fullness of God.
Jesus.
The Christ.
The Messiah.
Immanuel, God with us.
This very Christ “that died for our sins in accordance with the Scriptures, that he was buried, that he was raised on the third day in accordance with the Scriptures” (1 Corinthians 15:3b-4).
When you see a nativity this Christmas and see that tiny baby lying in a manger, may your hearts and minds be filled with awe and wonder! Marvel. And remember that “there is salvation in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given among men by which we must be saved” (Acts 4:12).
Oh, I could go on for days! We have all been given the choice between life and death. Choose life. Not just for this world, because this world will hold its own measure of pain and suffering. Choose life for the world to come, when Christ will make all things new. No more mourning. No more pain. No more crying. No more death.
We started a new book this Advent season, a compilation of writings from various authors, Come, Thou Long-Expected Jesus. In the last chapter (yes, I jumped ahead because I love the author so much), Joni Eareckson Tada writes, “On this side of eternity, Christmas is still a promise. Yes, the Savior has come, and with him peace on earth, but the story is not finished…When we realize that Jesus is the answer to our deepest longing, even Christmas longings, each Advent brings us closer to his glorious return to earth. When we see him as he is, King of kings and Lord of lords, that will be ‘Christmas’ indeed!”
And maybe, just maybe, there is someone reading today who will meet this Jesus for the very first time this Christmas season. He is the greatest miracle of all. The greatest treasure of all. The greatest hope of all.
A Thousand Little Deaths 