What Does It Mean To Die?

Someone I know is dying. I've been thinking a lot the last few days about what that means... the trembling release of everything that you have EVER known and loved... the uncertain moment of slipping away from what has always seemed so firm and real... the unspeakable grief of the ones who have loved you and known you... the coherent moments fading into hazy and lost moments.

What does it mean to die?

What does it mean to move from this life into the unknown?

I keep coming back to Brennan Manning. He says that, when we die, we will see the outstretched arms of Jesus and hear him say these words...

"Get up, my true love, my beautiful one, and come with me. Look! The winter is past. The rain is over and gone. Blossoms appear in the land. The time of the songbird has arrived. The cooing of the mourning dove is heard in our land. The green figs ripen. The grapevines bloom and give off a fragrance. Get up, my true love, my beautiful one, and come with me."

One version says, "Come away with me my love, my lovely one, come..."

The idea of this makes death seem almost sweet.

Most of my life has been one difficult season after another. Glorious pain and sorrow. I wouldn't trade a second of my depression or loneliness. I wouldn't change the circumstances that have shaped me. But they have been deeply sad.

I like to think that, when we fade away from this space where we have lived and loved, we are immediately met by the figure of the Holiest Conqueror - his arms flung wide in expectation...

I want to hear him say, "Come away with me, my love. My lovely one, come. The winter is over and gone. A new season of blooming, fresh, glorious joy is waiting for you. Come with me!"

I am praying for this vision to soothe the hearts of his grieving family. I am praying for these sad, sad moments that stretch between now and when he hears the voice of the King.

I am praying for the years of remembering and mourning that stretch out before them.

Because the sorrow isn't for the dying, but for the living.

Those of us who have lost and are left to hunger for the sound of our loved one's voice, the touch of their fingertips, the scent of their presence.

For us, the winter stretches on a little longer.

May we see Jesus, here in the rainy seasons of our lives, arms opened wide...

Hope of what we are journeying towards...