I've found that most people don't like to talk much about death. Perhaps you're one of those people, and you'd rather just skip this post - or perhaps not. Sooner or later it's a topic that affects us all. (And as if to emphasize the point, as I was writing that last sentence, I received an email with news of another death.)
My mind has wandered through the memories of January twelve years ago. One of the nice surprises in looking at pictures from the graveside committal service, the family lunch at one of Joan's favorite restaurants, and the memorial service the following day is the number of smiling faces. In the midst of pain there were lots of smiles - and rightfully so. Death for a Christian is not an end; it's an entrance.
My brother-in-law in an email referred to the Gustafson trio - Joan and her sisters - singing "Heaven Came Down," and recalling the last time that they sang that together just a few weeks before her death prompted in me another smile. It was a good song to sing as Joan drew close to heaven.
When Joan died, the pain of loss was no surprise. What did surprise me then was the discovery that my gratitude was even deeper than my pain, and remembering that has brought a smile as well. Unavoidably death brings pain to those closest to it. Time both lessens the pain and increases the value of remembering. And as I've remembered today, I know that a death that was precious in the sight of the Lord twelve years ago is no less precious today.
