Friday, February 23, 2018
While I Gently Weep
The first anniversary of my mother's death will be next Friday. We're packing and moving, and I'm weeping.
It's difficult to understand my tears. Of course, I know much of the sadness is from losing my mother and brother last year, around this time. But there's more that is difficult to articulate. The busy-ness of our lives often keeps us from truly contemplating what lies ahead.
Each breath we take, each step we take brings us closer to death. Death might take us unaware. Death might be long awaited. Yet it always hovers before us, tainting our dreams.
Today I finished a study of 2 Timothy. This is Paul's last letter before he died, beheaded according to Eusebius, an early church historian.
Paul says: For I am already being poured out like a drink offering, and the time for my departure is near. I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. Now there is in store for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will award to me on that day—and not only to me, but also to all who have longed for his appearing. ~ 2 Timothy 4:6-8
I tremble to think, not of the death that awaits me, but at the race I still have left to run, the good fight I must still fight. None of us is perfect, and we should be continuously learning, stretching toward the finish line, reaching forward to fully grasp righteousness. No, we will never fully attain that upon this earth, but it's something we must strive toward, even when we're weary.
Paul goes on to say, But the Lord stood at my side and gave me strength, so that through me the message might be fully proclaimed and all the Gentiles might hear it. And I was delivered from the lion’s mouth. ~ verse 17
Here on earth we weep. But the Lord stands by our side and strengthens us. Later, on the day our race is finished, our tears will be wiped away forever.
(Image from Pixabay)