The Unseen Life, Part 3

​Ps 103: 15-16; 2 Cor 4:18; 2 Cor 5: 6-10
 
Understandably, whether unconsciously or otherwise, we instinctively embody the search for life’s meaning as we grapple with the daily challenges in our restricted sphere of engagement. Over time, an individual solution of the human predicament takes form that expresses how we interpret life’s most pressing issues and its relationship to our faith. The stigma of death is one such subject. Perhaps our incessant preoccupation with living belies an unconscious fear or an uncertainty of the repercussions of what dying may encompass, and for many, the future beyond our certain demise. This escapist attitude may complicate our preparation and thoughts on our transition itself with those whom we love and care; postponing decisions to an uncertain future rather than following through with immediacy, and living life to its fullest in Christ, without any regrets. 
 
How uncomfortable would you feel if you were suddenly face-to-face with death? No doubt, most of us would struggle to process it, if we only had the luxury of time. While abroad, confronted by God with that possibility, it took months before I was prepared to intentionally lay down my life. I was relishing the relationships around us and the challenging routines at work; the issue of death, like most who are gainfully satisfied with their present employment, was furthest from my mind. One evening, I decided that it was time I focused on what God wanted of me. I surrendered, with a condition; that the Lord mentally prepared my wife before anything happens. Three days later, we heard on the early morning radio that one of our colleagues, in another city, had been murdered; shot through the back of his head as he was walking down a lane. 
“God, you meant it! Why didn’t you prevent John’s killing?”
For a week, the shock of that news, together with my recent resolution, sent me into an emotional tailspin. John was 32 years old, survived by his wife and two pre-school kids.
 
Subconsciously, we know that life is temporal, but we continue to live it as though its end is still a long way away. This incident challenged my delusional perspective on life - for by design, life in Christ is to be lived sacrificially, as its end is totally and confidently in the hands of God (Matt 16: 24-26; Roms 12: 1-2; 1 Cor 6:17). Hence, we are required to willingly relinquish it, in due course, if we are to keep faith with our Creator in this life. 
 
As instructed, three months prior to our overseas work stint, we sold our apartment and donated the proceeds. It was initially a counter-intuitive choice, as our home had become our security! But we surmised that if God had decided it was prudent to divest us of our abode, then He is also more than able to provide for our future. A week before we departed for our assignment, we gave our remaining savings, the balance of our wedding gifts, to a needy couple, who were facing an unexpected surgical bill. Again, as instructed. That left an amount in our bank account that was necessary to keep it functional! By relinquishing our last resource, the sense of financial freedom was exhilarating! For us, I concluded that that was probably what faith was all about - faith in the Person of Christ rather than our own apparent financial viability. Subsequently, on our return home to look after my mother, some eight years later, God ensured that we were able to afford an apartment! No one knew of our impending purchase. How the finances came together was a miracle in itself. These stewardship lessons left an indelible impression on us. And we are still learning.
 
The moment I stepped into his hospital ward, a voice whispered,
“He does not have much time left. Talk to him about it!”
Our care group member was a relational person, and very energetic for his age. He was walking around his ward chit-chatting with the other patients, when my wife and I arrived. I sat him down, and immediately, our conversation was centred on his end of life decisions. God had already prepared him. We tentatively planned his own funeral arrangements and memorial service programme. In less than a week, his condition suddenly deteriorated, and he passed on.