When our dying bodies have been transformed into bodies that will never die, ... Scripture will be fulfilled: “Death is swallowed up in victory. O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?” The finality of death is almost unspeakable. In its wake are the piercing shards of darkness, sorrow, and emptiness for the one who grieves. It matters little if death is anxiously waited for, or if it suddenly descends. Relationships, dreams, expectations, and memories are shredded, scouring abrasively the hearts of those who loved. Amidst tears and the deep pulsing of emotion, reason is sought, challenging the irrationality of distorted thinking. And in the abyss of grief, the soul cries out to God, and a singular quiet moment begins to steady the horrid awfulness of upheaval. God does not erase grief, but He quiets it. He weaves His light with the darkness, and the journey of impossibility becomes possible, a dichotomy of intense loss embraced by the fullness of His love, His care, and His enablement.
As believers, we will, and do grieve, but the wretchedness of grief finds the solace of truth. Truth that sees death through graces God has already given. Grace to know God. Grace to know relationship with God. Grace to endure the difficulties of life and emerge with beauty and purpose. Grace to know the certainty of eternity within all the perfections of heaven. Grace that unfolds the reality that death is not the finality we fear, but death is a beginning. I have known the death of friends, grandparents, parents, a sibling, and even my own child. Each brought the reality of death, of separation, of loss, and of grief, and each was colored differently with its intensity. It was with the death of my mom I so vividly experienced that “singular quiet moment,” a moment preceded and yet still immersed in the utter finality of death and struggling for light amidst the darkness. That moment began to unfold the awareness of God’s love and provision, even in death, and perhaps, especially in death. My mom had known God and the relationship she had with Him had brought endurance for the difficulties of life. Her relationship with God was rich, not with rules of orthodoxy, but with the essence of a heartfelt and very practical faith, the nuggets of which became foundational for the lives of children and grandchildren, and even great-grandchildren. Her casket bore the words “going home,” but had we had the foresight, those words would have said, “already home.” Her life and her death testified of truth.
The one who grieves though also testifies of truth. The grieving believer has already received the grace to know God, to know relationship with God that sustains and enables and gives purpose to life in all of its ebb and flow. Death may bring its unanswered questions assaulting the faith of even the most dedicated believer, as it did with Job, but for the grieving believer who testifies of truth, death also unveils a stubborn, persistent faith that returns to God over and over and over again. And each returning renews faith, deepens truth, and quiets grief. Death is swallowed up in victory.
(Related Bible reading: 1 Corinthians 15:54-56)
As believers, we will, and do grieve, but the wretchedness of grief finds the solace of truth. Truth that sees death through graces God has already given. Grace to know God. Grace to know relationship with God. Grace to endure the difficulties of life and emerge with beauty and purpose. Grace to know the certainty of eternity within all the perfections of heaven. Grace that unfolds the reality that death is not the finality we fear, but death is a beginning. I have known the death of friends, grandparents, parents, a sibling, and even my own child. Each brought the reality of death, of separation, of loss, and of grief, and each was colored differently with its intensity. It was with the death of my mom I so vividly experienced that “singular quiet moment,” a moment preceded and yet still immersed in the utter finality of death and struggling for light amidst the darkness. That moment began to unfold the awareness of God’s love and provision, even in death, and perhaps, especially in death. My mom had known God and the relationship she had with Him had brought endurance for the difficulties of life. Her relationship with God was rich, not with rules of orthodoxy, but with the essence of a heartfelt and very practical faith, the nuggets of which became foundational for the lives of children and grandchildren, and even great-grandchildren. Her casket bore the words “going home,” but had we had the foresight, those words would have said, “already home.” Her life and her death testified of truth.
The one who grieves though also testifies of truth. The grieving believer has already received the grace to know God, to know relationship with God that sustains and enables and gives purpose to life in all of its ebb and flow. Death may bring its unanswered questions assaulting the faith of even the most dedicated believer, as it did with Job, but for the grieving believer who testifies of truth, death also unveils a stubborn, persistent faith that returns to God over and over and over again. And each returning renews faith, deepens truth, and quiets grief. Death is swallowed up in victory.
(Related Bible reading: 1 Corinthians 15:54-56)
