About a week ago, a soldier told me that he didn't like that his girlfriend takes sleeping pills. I asked him why. He told me that he had a friend who killed himself (either intentionally or unintentionally) with sleeping pills. A couple of weeks before that point, his friend had suggested that they get together, but this soldier didn't have time. My solder friend still carries the grief of the "What if..."
He knows that God is sovereign over life and death, and ultimately, his friend died when God willed for him to die. That precious life was not his to save. Even so, there is something about missing the opportunity to see someone before their death that is grievous.
I had a similar experience to my friend. One of my college friends killed herself by taking pills (either intentionally or unintentionally). A few weeks prior, we had promised each other that we would do coffee--an appointment that would never be kept.
I think we all wish we could have final words with a loved one who has died, even if we can't save them. I remember a nightmare I had a couple of years after another friend of mine died of cancer. I was walking down a path at night, holding her body, crying for help. I went from place to place, knowing that if only I could get help, she would be saved. But no one answered.
In those experiences (amongst many others), I learned to draw close to the dead and dying, not shy away. I would challenge you all to do the same. Death scares us and makes us incredibly sad. We feel utterly helpless to prevent the devastation that is about to fall on a host of loved ones, including ourselves.
If you know someone who is walking through death's dark shadow, spend time with them. Share with them the joy of precious events experienced together. Tell the inside jokes. Make sure to tell them everything you love about them. Do not be scared to hug them or be affectionate. For many, you can even talk about death: its shadow and the Light that can pierce it. And learn. We lose our lives in running from death; We gain them in embracing it.
My friend, Chelle, made this point to me one of the final times I saw her. We were talking when she sudden became distracted by the shaking of nearby tree by the breeze. "That is so beautiful," she said, "I would have never noticed it before."
Remember, Christ not only weeped at the tomb of Lazarus--He then raised him from the dead. Death loses its power when you find yourself held in the hand of the Good Shepherd. You no longer shout unheard words into a lonely night. God, with Word and Spirit, and then in everlasting glory--He answers.
