I don't know if I've mentioned this but I think about death a lot. Lately I've been wondering if there's something unhealthy about how often it crosses my mind. Such as, when Scott and I are driving two cars home from work, and I lose sight of him in my rear-view, and think "I should stay within sight of his car, in case something happens to him..." or when I go in to wake him up in the morning and check to make sure he's breathing first.
This week my pastor's brother died suddenly. They were the best of friends, and my pastor had just come from an extended vacation with his brother- only a few days later he died unexpectedly, it was really a shock. Throughout the wake and funeral, we often remarked how blessed they were to have had that vacation time together, and how if you have to die, doing so suddenly with no suffering and no warning is maybe something we should all hope for- along with the mourning, I think there was a palpable feeling of gratitude for the way it all happened.
And I can surely see the logic in that. So as I sat in the pew, watching my beloved pastor mourn but celebrate, I wondered just what my position on death is, after all.
I think I'm not really afraid of dying. I truly believe that whatever comes next will be even better than what we experience in life, and hell is not a pervasive worry of mine (as much as some would say it should be!) I know somehow that I'll see my loved ones again, only burden-free, and blissful. What's to fear? And I do feel this same hope for my loved ones- that they'll be in Heaven with Jesus and all that... so why then am I so worried on the death of those close to me?
Is it the "dropping of the shoe" of it all? Is it my need to control things that makes me hyper-vigilant of the lives of my friends and family? I guess I need to do some reckoning between my beliefs. Maybe if I can remember how much I'm cool with death on the whole, it'll make my days worry-free.
You know what I think would really help? Some ice cream.