"Then comes the end, when he delivers the kingdom to God the Father after destroying every rule and every authority and power. For he must reign until he has put all his enemies under his feet. The last enemy to be destroyed is death." 1 Corin 15:24-25

Tonight was my first real encounter with the enemy of death. Often, people talk of dying peacefully, of death being a release, of it being a positive thing, not a negative. It's as though they can will a happy alternative to the reality of death. I myself have had thoughts like these... death is ok, God conquered it right? For Christians it shouldn't be scary at all.

To some extent it's true... but it's still an enemy. One that we are still fighting. You don't think happy thoughts about enemies. You fight against them.

Our family went to see my granddad tonight, as he lay struggling to breath, unable to move in the ICU at the hospital. He's a very stout man, a farmer, a hard worker, and by all accounts, stubborn. He has battled Parkinson's disease for a good 12 or so years now, and the battle is finally taking it's toll. The doctors have not given a good prognosis and if it were anyone else, I'd be certain that he won't make it through the night.

But it's my granddad and he could live for days. I honestly don't know what keeps him going. I have thought many times that if I were him, I would give up.

Yet, observing the effects of death as an enemy changed my thoughts on that. As we all gathered around and spoke to him, his eyes were slits of courage struggling with every last ounce of energy to engage us; they were the only form of communication left for him other than a slight squeeze of his hand. Casey told him how much he respected him for the way he had lived his life, for being faithful to grandmother and a good example for us to follow. Suzanne shared how much she loved him and how she was praying for him to be encouraged by who God is and what Jesus did for him on the cross. I gave my agreement and remembered all the times growing up, all the memories that He gave us of roller skating in the basement, shooting b-b guns in the backyard, and weeks of vacation Bible school, and how glad I was we could be there with him tonight.

Mom reminded him that even if now was not his time, that there was a time coming when He would be in heaven and able to breath, able to drink and quench his thirst, able to run, walk, move, and make his body do all the things it can't do now. She reminded him there were good things ahead.

And then dad prayed for him. As we ended the prayer, my Dad made a joke about how bad his breath must be from the beans and onions he'd had for dinner that night and that Granddad better be glad he had that breathing mask on. My granddad's eyes smiled, but I saw the only tear I've ever seen my dad cry, slowly slide down his cheek.

Death is an enemy.

There we had given him all the true words we could find and all the positive thoughts we could muster. I realized, they were the sword to fight against the enemy of death, not the hug that embraces it.

As i drove home from the hospital, I wept. The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin will not be ultimately conquered until that final day. What I just witnessed were the final fingers, the grasping claws of decay-filled sin, deteriorating the earthly, perishable body of one of God's children. I was so grateful for the promise of victory in Christ, but so sad for the momentary loss of history, heritage, and friend. It had been coming on so slow, I had hardly noticed it. But there it was, the final battle, right before my eyes.

It was grusome. I can't deny it.

That's why Paul had to remind us, that there IS a victory, there IS a hope, and that Christ experienced it first. We are not alone.

"When the perishable puts on the imperishable, and the mortal puts on immortality, then shall come to pass the saying that is written: 'Death is swallowed up in victory.' 'O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?' The sting of death is sin, and power of sin is the law. But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ."

I want someone to read Paul's words to me when I am fighting that last battle. I will need to be reminded, I have no doubt, because the victory is on the other side. I am praying that my granddad tastes it soon, and that all his stubborness is engaged in thrusting swords of truth into the enemy of death.

I love you granddad.

If life is a delicious drink, it's practically drowning me in its deluge.
If friendships are the jelly filling, i'm the flaky pastry stuffed full of them.
If beautiful weather was wine, i'd be drunk on it.
If new experiences were cocaine, I'd be a crack-head.
If crazy food combinations were outlawed, I'd be skinnier.
If time was elastic, I'd make a trampoline out of it.

I weave the dreams of daring accomplishments into a net of tragic failure that catches all the fish of darting desires in my mind. I go fishing in the pond that holds my plans and hopes and find the fish are small and hard to catch. When I finally get one, I put it inside my apartment aquarium. It swims around in photo-album memories and I stare at it over and over again. Sometimes I even talk to it.

What I should prefer is to be a fisherman on a salty sea-faring boat, diving for sharks and catching swordfish. I woulnd't even hang them on my mantle at home, but donate them to a local seafood shop, or let a famous TV show do a special on me. I would catch the biggest fish in the sea, just for fun, because I can.

But, I am not great. I am small. My pleasures are small, yet small pleasures are big pleasures for small people. I will drink Alice's tea and shrink even smaller until just a thimble of joy might drench me head to toe. Then instead of catching fish, I would swim inside them and dream that I am better than Jonah, because I ended up here on purpose, not by mistake.

If talent is pollen, I am a honey bee trying to gather it.
If satisfaction is saturation, I will dive in deep.
If tears are cleansing, let me cry more.
If laughter is healing, I am whole.

For everything there is a season.
You must increase, I must decrease Lord.
I drink from the fountain of living waters.

i've been thinking about writing again. and Franny's post pushed me over the edge. 

From the journals and letters of Jim Elliot in Shadow of the Almighty:

"Overcome anything in the confidence of your union with Him, so that contemplating trial, enduring persecution or loneliness, you may know the blessings of the 'joy set before.' 'We are the sheep of His pasture. Enter into His gates with thanksgiving, and into His courts with praise.' And what are sheep doing going into the gate? What is their purpose inside those courts? To bleat melodies and enjoy the company of the flock? No. Those sheep were destined for the altar. Their pasture feeding had been for the one purpose, to test them and fatten them for bloody sacrifice. Give Him thanks, then that you have been counted worthy of His altars. Enter into the work with praise."

"Father, let me be weak that I might loose my clutch on everything temporal. My life, my reputation, my possessions, Lord let me loose the tension of the grasping hand. Even, Father, would I lose the love of fondling. How often I have released a grasp only to retain what I prized by 'harmless' longing, the fondling touch. Rather, open my hand to receive the nail of Calvary, as Christ's was opened--that I releasing all, might be released, unleashed from all that binds me now. He thought Heaven, yea, equality with God, not a thing to be clutched at. So let me release my grasp."

"To that soul which has tasted of Christ, the jaunty laugh, the tempting music of mingled voices, the haunting appeal of smiling eyes--all these lack flavor. And I would drink deeply of Him. Fill me,  O Spirit of Christ, with all the fullness of God."



AMEN! Oh to be so captivated by the love of the Lamb who was slain, that I long to follow him to the altar! Oh to find the promised "joy set before" in the path of sacrificial praise! Oh to lose my life and find it in Christ alone!
Yes, indeed Lord. Fill me, O Spirit of Christ, with all the fullness of God. This alone will give me strength for the task.