Death

Death is a rather morbid subject, and I doubt seriously that as many people click on this link from facebook as they did when Tebow was in the subject line, but so it goes.  Seven years ago this weekend I watched the AFC and NFC championship games with my dad in a hospital room in Hanford, California.  I had been admitted to the hospital the previous Friday night (January 21, 2005) because, unbeknownst to me at the time, my small intestine had ruptured and I was dying.  My dad had traveled from Anchorage to Hanford on that Saturday and on Sunday we sat there all afternoon watching the football games.  It was a release from the unending pain and undeniable fact that I was a 24 year old fighter pilot in a hospital.  It diverted my attention from reality.  And the reality was, within 10 days I would be written off for dead by surgeons.  Between now and the Superbowl, I would spend five days in surgery and walk on the edge of death.  But that Sunday afternoon while watching football, I never in a million years would have thought that I would have ended up coming so close to dying.  And while I don't remember much from the week and half between coming into the hospital and surgery, I remember being more worried about not flying airplanes anymore than I was of dying.  

As I have thought about this I have come to two conclusions.  First, most of us, while knowing we will die some day (statistics aren't in our favor), don't think it will be anytime soon and are convinced, or at least live as if we are convinced, that we will have ample warning before it happens.  Second, we are more concerned about the legacy we leave rather than whether that legacy leads us to Christ.  The application from these two conclusions is this: first, while we can't live in fear of dying, we must realize that we are not promised tomorrow nor are we promised ample warning followed by a peaceful death (again, statistics not in our favor).  And if we aren't promised tomorrow, we have to do something with the fact that we will die and what happens after death.  Second, worry about getting more of Christ rather than your legacy.  Quick, name your great, great grandfather on your mom's side.  Dad's side?  What did they do?  I bet most people can't, I know I can't.  If you can't name your own great, great grandfather, what makes you think your great, great grandkids will know who you are or how awesome you were?  We have a tendency to think higher of ourselves and our legacy than we probably should.  We live, we die, and then we see Jesus face to face.  Is your life pointing to that meeting being one of joyous fulfillment in finally, at last, seeing God face to face or terror?