I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately– my eventual death. This might have something to do with having lost quite a few friends in the last couple years. It might also have to do with some discussions that have been taking place on An Atheist and a Catholic, a blog I co-founded last month.
There’s nothing quite like faith (or lack thereof) to stimulate the important topics like death. And I don’t mean this in a morbid way. Well, maybe I do. Can death be anything but that? What I’m trying to say is…I don’t want this to be a downer post. Sometimes the contemplation of death can revive life in a way nothing else can.
Recently on the above-mentioned blog, we wrote a post discussing Our Funerals from a believing and non-believing perspective. The focus there was on how we imagine our funerals. But right now, I’m not even there. I’m back at the dying part. And I want to think about this. It’s important to not gloss over it.
When I die…I know that even if I am fortunate enough to be surrounded by friends and family, it will really be just me and God. Okay, me and God…and, I imagine, a cloud of witnesses that will include many other spiritual loved ones, known and unknown perhaps. This brings me great comfort.
But even before that…I imagine there will be a specific period of time…in which it will just be me and God. And you know what? That thought doesn’t scare me, at all. That…is a wonderful thought. It might seem strange but I’m actually looking forward to that time when everything else begins to melt away — especially things that don’t really matter all that much — and everything that does matter becomes clear. And when that time comes, the thought of my Lord being near, being the one to beckon me on to the next phase of my life, is a warm and wonderful thought.
This is one thing atheists don’t have. Forget about the reality of it, whether God is real or made up. Let’s say it’s all just hogwash, a total delusion as atheists contend, this God thing. Okay. Fine. That is a possibility, after all. Not a very likely one, I’d say. I find it actually quite reasonable to believe that this world didn’t just sort of happen randomly. But even if it all were to turn out false…there is still something beautiful about the hope of it all.
We seem made for this hope. Hope is something everyone needs to survive. It is absolutely essential that hope stays alive, even if in a very small amount. Without it, all grows dark.
I feel so grateful, so free, so humbled to be traveling through this world with faith and hope and the thought that when I die, a God who loved me into being will be on the other side, softening the blow of death, bringing me into a fuller understanding of what my life has meant, loving me into what He has in store for the next phase.
I truly believe that if we keep seeking a relationship with God while we have a chance on earth, this encounter with God that will occur as we pass from one side of the veil to the other will feel very familiar, very welcoming.
What else will it feel like? Like being bathed in love, I’m thinking. Truth be told, I’m looking forward to that…someday.
Q4U: Does thinking about death in this way make it feel less foreboding? What comforting thoughts do you have about death?
Mary Aalgaard says
I like the vision of being surrounded by a cloud of witnesses. I’d like to believe that at the moment of passing, I’ll feel more connected to every spirit that has ever loved me, and I them, than ever before, and be carried away.
I hope it takes a long time for you or I to experience that. We have more to do here.
Journey on!
Clara says
Hi Roxane,
I don’t think we as a people talk enough about the transition of death…Having faith leads us to not fear death, but embrace it for when God is ready to receive us:)
Thanks for this muse upon a natural transition.
Clara.
Vicky says
Roxane, I watched this past summer as my father, became more distant from us, and from his life here on earth, before he passed. He would look at us, and I felt as though he wasn’t seeing us… his gaze was distant and it was hard for him to form coherent words. He stopped asking for the time, or for food, or for anything and he really just slipped further and further from us. But I’d like to think he was growing closer to God and awakening to what was in store for him. He looked to be in utter peace when we discovered him shortly after he had passed. But I am with Mary, much more to do here, before I contemplate too much the next journey!!
Marie says
Wow, Roxane, I really need to sleep on this post and re-read it. Maybe several times. You have touched on a topic that is near and dear to my heart, and one that brings me great anxiety. I hope that I will be able to comment appropriately and pepper you with questions when I’ve had some time to digest.
God Bless,
Marie
Roxane B. Salonen says
Mary, I love your comforting thought. It’s nice.
Clara, thanks for your perspective from the medical field. While death is never an easy thing, it is a natural transition from one life to the next, like birth.
Vicky, I’m with you girl. Looking forward to whatever God has planned for both of us here on earth! 🙂
And Marie, I’m sorry to have set you off on a sad course. I hope you do come back with your thoughts. Having lost your mother, you have insight I don’t and I can see how you would approach this subject with a great deal of conflicting emotion. I hope you will share more in time, either here or in person. Hugs…