Fearless

Luke 12:13-31

        Death is a funny thing. We all know in some recess of our mind that we are not immortal, at least in a human sense. We know one day our life will end. It seems easy enough to put that out of our mind. In a way we are conditioned not to think about it because we have a long history of sleeping and waking day after day after day.

        Perhaps there are some moments in our life when we come closer to death than we care to. The death of a loved one or an accident in which we narrowly escape death. I recall an event 20 years ago when an oil truck rear ended a car on wet pavement. The car took off like a croquet ball and the tanker started spinning around like it was dancing on ice and it headed right for me, stopped at the opposing stoplight. It came to rest mere feet from the front of my car, nose to nose. I giggled an uneasy giggle all day, maybe all week knowing what might easily have happened. And then there are the times we witness the death of our loved ones. I was present when my good friend Joe eased from this life into the next after a valiant fight for life. It was surreal.

        Today I am facing my own personal view of dying. I can only suspect it would be fully appreciated by someone who has cancer, someone on death row awaiting a last minute appeal or someone like myself who has a ripening aneurysm. You are facing the real possibility that you may not wake up the next morning like you always have for years on end.

       It is interesting to know that you could easily die with not much more than a moments notice. How devastating to say goodbye to the people you love so intensely. My husband, my muse, my lover, my friend. My most wonderful children and two of the most adorable grandsons that I have been graced with, my family and friends.

         I do know that Jesus knew he was going to die. I do have an inkling now how he must have felt as his gut wrenched knowing he was saying good bye to his mom, his friends, perhaps his lover? and his Apostles. Jesus enjoyed companionship as much as he enjoyed communing with his father in the desert. The transition truly is gut wrenching.

         Knowing you may meet your maker makes you fearless though. You can see the prize of heavenly reward almost in front of you. The joy of such a meeting becomes not something to be feared but something to embrace even if you have absolutely no desire to say goodbye to loved ones. In fact I would vote an emphatic NO to leave my loved ones.  Yet in the face of being graced with such a wonderful husband, children and life, isn't it selfish to ask for more?

      Such is the mental anguish of being on the edge. Working feverishly to have yourself "fixed", doing all the tests, doing all they say to do and not doing what you have been accustomed to doing, and waiting, knowing, anticipating, accepting whatever is coming. Frankly it sucks but face it you must, one way or another. Coming face to face with the real possibility you will meet your maker perhaps sooner than later. You don't take for granted the waking day after day after day any longer.

       I say all this as a form of self therapy for sure. But on a day like today when we think of those that have died before us, those who have enriched our lives and who they themselves have gone to meet their maker, it seems wholly appropriate to think about my own mortality.

       Aside from the actual moment of death, there is a freeing moment here in my life, right now, ever present that I have been so graced and to make every moment precious because it truly is. Every moment is a graced moment. Oh if we could only live our whole life that way. It certainly is freeing and it certainly makes you fearless.

      

Someone in the crowd said to him, ‘Teacher, tell my brother to divide the family inheritance with me.’ But he said to him, ‘Friend, who set me to be a judge or arbitrator over you?’ And he said to them, ‘Take care! Be on your guard against all kinds of greed; for one’s life does not consist in the abundance of possessions.’ Then he told them a parable: ‘The land of a rich man produced abundantly. And he thought to himself, “What should I do, for I have no place to store my crops?” Then he said, “I will do this: I will pull down my barns and build larger ones, and there I will store all my grain and my goods. And I will say to my soul, Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years; relax, eat, drink, be merry.” But God said to him, “You fool! This very night your life is being demanded of you. And the things you have prepared, whose will they be?” So it is with those who store up treasures for themselves but are not rich towards God.’

He said to his disciples, ‘Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat, or about your body, what you will wear. For life is more than food, and the body more than clothing. Consider the ravens: they neither sow nor reap, they have neither storehouse nor barn, and yet God feeds them. Of how much more value are you than the birds! And can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your span of life? If then you are not able to do so small a thing as that, why do you worry about the rest? Consider the lilies, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin;^* yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not clothed like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, how much more will he clothe you—you of little faith! And do not keep striving for what you are to eat and what you are to drink, and do not keep worrying.For it is the nations of the world that strive after all these things, and your Father knows that you need them. Instead, strive for his kingdom, and these things will be given to you as well.