Final Glory

We are having a beautiful fall here. One day the kids and I went on a walk in Green Canyon and talked about their Grandma dying. Their school is having a creative project contest and my 11 year old daughter Jessica decided to write a poem (they could choose writing, art, music, photography, etc.) While we walked, we brainstormed ideas for her poem. For some reason, I wondered about a connection between mom's passing and the vibrant orange and yellow leaves around us.

Is it not ironic that the maples and aspens surrounding us were their most stunning as the leaves died? In a way, my mom was at her best in her last weeks on earth. Her sweet spirit touched many lives at the assisted living facility where she spent her final days. One of the managers said "There is not a person here who was not touched by your parents." I thank God for that.

And here is the poem Jessica wrote (and stored in the "memo" function of my cell phone) as we walked among God's tapestry of terminal beauty....


Autumn Leaves

Why do fall's colors shine so bright?
Because the leaves are on their first and last flight
Slowly falling to the ground
Slowly twirling round and round
And though their red and yellow colors brightly shine
This is the last step in their fateful lifeline

Gone?

The following is a poem that was read by the pastor at my dad's memorial service. I first heard it years ago and I thought it was awesome then......

“I am standing upon the seashore. A ship at my side spreads it’s white sails to the morning breeze and starts for the blue ocean. It is an object of beauty and strength. I stand and watch him until at length he hangs like a speck of white cloud just where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other.”

Then someone at my side says: “There, he is gone!”
“Gone where?”
Gone from my sight. That is all. He is just as large in mast and hull and spar as he was he left my side and he is just as able to bear his load of living freight to his destined port.

His diminished size is in me, not in him. And just at the moment when someone at my side says: “There, he is gone!” there are other eyes watching his coming, and other voices ready to take up the glad shout: “Here he comes!”

And that is dying.”

-Henry Van Dyke

The Obscenity of Death

Last week, early Friday morning, my mom died. She lay there peacfully, the sound of oxygen hissing the only disturbance. I had said goodbye the week before when I flew out to California. My once beautiful mom was thin, pale and exhausted. Due to an intestinal blockage, she had not eaten for weeks and it eventually would take her life. In her room were some of our favorite pictures of her. She was a pretty blond when she was young and had done some modeling for friends and advertising for the store where she worked. Many of the workers and nurses would pause and look at the pictures. "Wow, is that Lucile?" they would remark. "She was so pretty" Mom would smile.... and perhaps remember. While I grew up my friends would all remark on how beautiful my mom was. Now, she lay there-an emaciated, gray haired old woman...slowly dieing. Sunken cheeks, dull eyes, relying on others to give her a sip of water and change a wet diaper. This is how it ends.... this is what awaits most of us, barring a tragic accident.

A few days before, I was talking with a hospice doctor. She mentioned what a beautiful thing it was to watch someone die. She believed some concept of heaven and was referring to reports of some who die with a happy, content look on their faces. As she talked I inwardly rebelled against the notion of "beauty" in death. Of course, I rejoice that my parents are now worshiping and enjoying the awesome presence of God. As Mercy Me suggests, I can only imagine what incredible beauty and joy they are experiencing. But beauty in death? No.

Someone has described death as obscene and I would agree. It is absolutely tragic that the newborn baby, smooth skinned and full of promise, grows and learns, delighting his/her parents, only to whither,wrinkle and die a slow, painful death. When I watched my father in his final hours, a shadow of what he once was, my mind was filled with the thought-it's not supposed to be this way. Indeed, the Genesis story is all about how God made us for an idyllic garden, to be in fellowship with Him forever, never destined for decay and death. It is only because of the Fall, the choice to sin and say "no" to God that brought us to this end. I know my Lord was grieving with me as he saw the suffering of my parents, as He does with all who suffer.

Living and ministering in Utah, I am aware of teachings in the Mormon church that the Fall of Man was a good thing, enabling spirit children from the pre-existence to come to Earth, get a body, and proceed with their progression toward Godhood. When you watch someone you love die, you know in your innermost heart that such ideas cannot be true. The only good you feel is the knowledge that finally, their nightmare is over. You are grateful they will forever be in the loving embrace of their creator, and death....will be no more.

...then the saying that is written will come true: "Death has been swallowed up in victory. Where , o death is your victory? Where, o death, is your sting?" I Cor 15:54,55