May 6, 18, and 31

Yesterday, May 18, is the anniversary of the day Patrick went to be with Jesus. As I have written in previous years, the loss of Patrick was, and is, felt acutely. I cannot drive on the Zuck Homestead without feeling the void, nor without feeling the love and affection I have for Patrick.

May 6 is the anniversary of the day my dear and sweet brother-in-law Rod went to be with Jesus. Rod was a loving brother to Vickie, and a loving brother and friend to me. If I was facing a challenge that I didn’t think myself capable of overcoming, or a goal I didn’t think I could accomplish, Rod was the ultimate encourager. As I write this it occurs to me that no one has ever told me that he was proud of me the way Rod did. Rod was confident in the love that Jesus had for me and Vickie, and confident that God was in control. When Rod decided to stop dialysis he was peaceful about the decision, and he was confident about being received into his Master’s presence.

Rod and Patrick were both men without pretension; neither cared about impressing others. They both had an innocence that was refreshing to me and which often convicted me of my own ego and hypocrisy. They both had a foundational love for Jesus that seemed unaware of the religious games that many of us are prone to play. Love Jesus, love others, help others whenever you can, honor friendships, don’t worry about “things” – their lives continue to convict me of my unbelief and selfishness.

May 31, 2016, one year ago, is the day our grandson Austin died in a freak accident at home. You don’t expect your grandchildren to die before you do. I cannot write about this…for a few reasons. I look forward to seeing Austin in Narnia and I hope, between now and then, that Austin has connected with Patrick and Rod – I think the three of them will enjoy each other.

While death leaves its void, it also leaves its hope and reminds the follower of Jesus Christ that we live in a continuum, that we are pilgrims and strangers here and that we are seeking a city that has true and deep foundations, whose builder and maker is God. While the void is there, the longing and expectation for future relationship is also there, as is the remembrance of past joy and love and affection. The present, the future, and the past meld into an awareness that it is a thin veil that we pass through and that we ought to live as if this could be our day to take the step, to breathe our own last breath. For the person living in Jesus Christ, our last exhale on earth will lead to our first inhale of the sweetness of the presence of God and of friends who have gone before us in Christ. When we leave the shadowlands we will be overcome by the reality of the beauty of the Trinity, of the Lamb and those who follow and adore Him.

As an old Puritan prayer goes, “May I speak each word as if my last word, and walk each step as my final one; and should my life end today, let this be my best day.”