And just as each person is destined to die once and after that comes judgment. Hebrews 9:27 NLT
“Did you hear that Richey* died?”
The early morning text came from my cousin, a first responder in the town where Richey lived. She had seen Richey’s sister’s post on Facebook. He had experienced headaches for a few days with no relief. After Richey missed supper with his parents the night before, Richey’s dad walked over the next day to check on him and discovered him dead.
Richey and I had been best friends during high school—and for a few years after that. We also worked at the same grocery store in our local town, where we both bagged groceries. After high school, Richey went to work for a small business, where he remained for the next twenty years.
But my life took a different turn. I worked locally, too, for a few years, but a layoff took me several towns over to find another job. Eventually, I went back to college. After graduation, I moved from one city to another—and even to another state, before finally coming back to my home state.
Throughout my transitions, I lost touch with Richey. I thought of him often—after all, he was my best friend. After Facebook was born, I searched for him. I found his sisters and brother, but never located him. I guess he wasn’t a Facebook fan. Now, he was gone.
I’ve heard it said that no parent should have to bury a child, but Richey’s mom and dad had buried two: Richey’s youngest sister and now Richey.
Even though it is appointed for us to die, very few want to. “And just as each person is destined to die once and after that comes judgment” (Hebrews 9:27 NLT).
Depression drives some to an early death by suicide. Pain and disease plague others. And some get tired of living in a world that seems to have gone awry. Dad fell into the last category.
Dad’s first heart valve lasted one year. When doctors told him he needed another one, he didn’t want it. The family talked him into having the surgery, but he matter-of-factly informed us he would not be coming home from Atlanta, Georgia, after his surgery. He had lost the will to live. He had lived the seventy years God had promised and was ready to go to heaven. Dad was right. He never made it home.
Christians believe in heaven—a place where gold lines the streets, where pain flees, where everyone gets along, and where time is erased—but most people I’ve met are in no hurry to get there. Not if it means we must die. We want to enjoy earth as long as possible before passing through the unknown.
Death separates us from earthbound family and friends. But, of course, some of our friends and family—barring a change—won’t make it to heaven. They have no interest in God. In that case, death separates us forever. Not a pleasant thought.
We can’t do much about this death thing though. Unless Christ returns, we’ll all experience it. Exercising and eating right won’t prevent it. Nor will freezing our bodies after death, hoping scientists will one day find a way to bring them back to life. God has appointed death, and it will happen.
As I age, I find myself scanning the obituaries of local newspapers--the same thing my grandparents and great-grandparents did. They lived before the internet when the only sources of information were the local newspaper, the local television station, the local radio station, and the local busybody who knew everything about everybody. As I look over the names, I hope I won’t see anyone I know—but I will because dying is what we do.
Fortunately, we don’t have to live with dread over death. God has made a wonderful, eternal place for us. Jesus said when He left earth, He would return for His children—at His Second Coming or our death. And heaven will inhabit beauty and circumstances we’ve never experienced before.
Before we get there, our earthly sojourn allows us to invite others to travel to heaven with us. This journey also gives us time to accomplish God’s plan for us. To do all the good we possibly can to as many people as we can for as long as we can. Finally, when our time is over, God will usher us into heaven and say, “Well done, good and faithful servant.”
I don't know about Richey. As a teenager, he never had time for God. I hope somewhere along the way, he changed that.
Enjoy your time on earth, but don’t forget to prepare for eternity.
Father, let me enjoy my time on earth, but prompt me not to forget to prepare for my death and eternity.
*Name changed to protect privacy.
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