The Story Behind “On The Day I Die” by Bob Jones

I wrote a post about living and called it, “On the Day I Die.”

Morbid?

No.

Attention grabbing?

I hoped so.

The content has been shared in our local St Albert newspaper and on blogsites.

I wrote the post after going through three funerals in twenty-four hours on a holiday weekend. I helped lay to rest a 19-year old, an 89-year old and a 53-year old. Two were sudden deaths.

Even for a pastor that’s a lot of death to deal with.

Funerals are unparalleled moments in a pastor’s ministry. Caring for people at a time of crisis and grief is part of my calling. I lean into it. People become vulnerable in bereavement like no other passage in life.

Funerals affect me. At times deeply.

Each funeral reminds me of my own mortality. My day will come.

That reminder is a gift of life that comes from death.

After that particular holiday weekend I sat down and imagined what would happen on the day I died. Especially if my death was unexpected and while I was still serving as a lead pastor at North Pointe.

The process was cathartic.

To imagine the end of my days was a profitable way to see how I should be living the rest of my days. I highly recommend it to you.

What seems SO important and urgent is cast in a healthy perspective.

On the day I die, the few people who really know and truly love me will cry.

And so knowing this, I force myself to remember that my time with family and friends is finite. And fleeting. And precious.

It’s easy to waste so much daylight in the days before you die.

Don’t let your life be stolen by the bill of sale on all that you’ve been led to believe matters.

On the day you die, the fact is that much of it simply won’t. Matter.

Hug hugely.

Kiss tenderly.

Love without fear.

Live your one and only shining life for the one and only eternal God and Savior, Jesus Christ.

Bob is a recovering perfectionist, who collects Coca-Cola memorabilia and drinks Iced Tea. His office walls are adorned with his sons’ framed football jerseys, and his library shelves, with soul food. He writes to grow hope, inspire readers, forge authentic faith in Jesus, and help others discover what's really important in life.

You can follow his writing at Pointes Of View.

What if--Writing Through a Glass Dimly by Jocelyn Faire

All the what if's in the world, wishing on stars—it won't change a thing ... determination, perseverance and a twist of fate changed my life and writing.

Writing through a glass dimly ... like a fog ...

“If you want something done, ask a busy person to do it.” That used to be the way I lived my life, my most prolific sewing happened with three small children attached to my body like extra limbs. Busyness, the accepted hallmark of Christian faith—the way many of us lived and still do, life filled with those appointed good works .... and then a twist of fate ... For me it was drastic and tragic ... the accident that took two children, the nest emptied, so torn apart by grief that barely a few twigs remained of that once-happy and full family nest.

And now, I am in that place where I have the time.

And the sense of urgency has decreased.

Now the need to write, is to make sense of this world, to give Hope a voice. I ache to express the beauty, the pain, and the God behind both. Being has become more important than doing.

Having the time or money to write, is not my issue—the issue is having the resilience to carry on, to respond to be creative and willing in all aspects of life, including writing.

When I read the question for this month, I didn't know quite how to approach it.

Perhaps that right time to do the things we keep on a bucket list, is once we get to heaven, when we are not seeing through the glass dimly. And then what? What will I have to write about? The tears will be gone, I will not be needing to overcome these great obstacles ... what will John Grisham write about? Ian Rankin ... who needs murder mysteries? Or those self-help books ... or, perhaps I should write now, because in Heaven I won't need to express the twisting doubts?

This summer I lost a very dear friend, a heart issue at age 57... and the bereft family said in the initial email ... she went to her eternal rest.

One thing I know about my friend, she wouldn't want to be in eternal rest. I don't think that's what Heaven's about. I used to wonder about eternity ... if it was going to be forever anyways, I saw no rush to get there, but once I had two term deposits up there, my outlook changed. Randy Alcorn's book, Heaven paints a phenomenal picture of experience and beauty, an exciting future he believes will greet us upon arrival. And he is convinced that we get to continue on in our creativity, and work in the eternal future. (This is not a theology piece on heaven.) So will I be writing up there? Or should I finish my stories here below? And 1 Corinthians comes to mind, If I speak (write) with the tongue of men and angels, but have not love, I'm a noisy gong, a clanging cymbal.

While kayaking last week, heavy with thoughts of my friend's life, praying about the upcoming funeral, I saw the most exquisite flowers, unlike any I had ever seen before, what made them so unique? They were underwater. I have seen enough seaweed and lily pads, where the blossoms rest on top of the water, to know this was exceptional, ... I kayaked over the clear blue green mountain lake waters again, to be sure my eyes had not deceived ... yes there, through the water glass dimly, were tiny yellow and white flowers a few feet below the surface ... the water dimmed their colours, but they truly were blooming where planted.

I think I can continue to write from under the water as long as I keep my kayak aimed at the Son!

Jocelyn writes about Hope in the Hard Places on her blog.


 

Exposed - Nesdoly

Exposed


Through the summer night and day

Spider spins her life away,

Weaving gossamer entrapments

For her unsuspecting prey.

Threads from clothes upon the line,

Between my beans upon the vine

And when I go through my front door,

I break more threads ticklish and fine.

Until one frosty day in fall

From tiny shrubs to pine tree tall

Each lacy trap in white is sketched.

The frost has come, exposing all!

© 2002 by V. Nesdoly 

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This poem came true again a few days ago - only it wasn't frost that exposed the spider webs this time, but dew. Luckily I was there with camera in hand to record the event.

Other kinds of hidden things are also revealed when conditions are right. Yesterday was the memorial service of my good friend and neighbor of 24 years. During an open mic session, a young woman came to the podium and began, "I was Pam's cashier at Costco..." She went on to say that on their weekly trip to Costco, my friend and her husband always chose to come to her cash register no matter how long the line. She told how much she appreciated their friendship and especially their kindness in the middle of what could be a thankless day.

That little memory made me wonder, could anyone tell a story like that about me at my funeral? What about you? Let's weave webs of kindness, thoughtfulness and other good stuff into our lives, so that on the day that all is exposed, the revelations will be good! 

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Web: http://violetnesdoly.com
Blog: promptings
Poetry portfolio: Violet Nesdoly / poems
Daily devotions for kids: Bible Drive-Thru
Twitter: @vnesdoly

Incredible Peace

Last night, because I was too tired to do anything else, I plunked myself in front of the television and watched an episode of ER, a show I’ve not seen for years.

In this episode, one of the hospital team members died. After the funeral, the ER staff gathered at a local bar to remember his life. They were sad and struggling. Death cast a shadow over them.

How different this scene was from the Christian funerals I’ve attended. I’ll never forget the first one. Irene was my mentor and her husband died. I was a new Christian, worried that God was going to ‘send me to Borneo’ or ask me to do something I didn’t want to do. At the funeral, I watched Irene lean over the grave, almost as if she wanted to jump in after her husband. My heart was pounding. Then she turned around.

Irene’s face shone. She was filled with joy, totally at peace with what was happening. I was astounded. At that same moment, God spoke to my heart. If I can give her joy at this moment, why are you worried about what I might ask of you? Even now as I recall this event from more than thirty-five years ago, I feel the same awe at God as I did then.

Irene explained. She knew where her husband had gone and she knew she would join him later. She even said, “The main reason for being sad is that I feel sorry for myself. If I think of him and what he is now enjoying, I cannot be sad.”

I’ve attended many funerals since then. When a Christian dies, the family is sorrowful because they miss the one who has left this earth, yet our hope is so real that we cannot help but be glad that our loved ones have been ‘promoted’ and are waiting for us in glory.

Paul wrote in 1 Thessalonians 4:13-14, “But I do not want you to be ignorant, brethren, concerning those who have fallen asleep, lest you sorrow as others who have no hope. For if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so God will bring with Him those who sleep in Jesus.” Because we know that Jesus is alive, we do not grieve the same way as others who do not know Him and have the same hope.

In Luke before Jesus came, the father of John the Baptist prophesied about his son. He said, “And you, child, will be called the prophet of the Highest; for you will go before the face of the Lord to prepare His ways, to give knowledge of salvation to His people by the remission of their sins, through the tender mercy of our God, with which the Dayspring from on high has visited us; to give light to those who sit in darkness and the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the way of peace.”

Jesus came to give light to those who sit in the shadow of death and in the darkness of not knowing what will happen to them after death. He came to direct those in darkness into a place of peace with God. By taking the wrath of God and our punishment for sin upon Himself, we can know that God loves us; we do not have to fear His judgment.

Jesus also came to direct us into having the peace of God. This is a peace that passes all understanding (Philippians 4:7), a peace that floods our hearts and minds and gives us deep joy. The light He gives opens our eyes to His love for us. We know He cares and we know that He is in control—even at funerals.

~ Elsie Montgomery

NOTE: My post was due the 24th, but with ICWF Fall Conference starting today, things are a tad busy around here. This is today's post from my blog, so another apology to those who read both. At least the topic is something worth hearing about more than once!