Head On

Just a couple of things I've been thinking about on and off for a while.

As a missionary I attended 4 funerals in my first area, and 2 more in my second. I was beginning to feel like the angel of death. In speaking with many others willing to hear about the gospel, some of them were interested in the afterlife because of their children who had died one way or another. One man was devastated by the loss of a son who died while racing his motorcycle while drunk. At the son's funeral, friends of the family tried to make the best of the situation by saying he lived life to the fullest, referring to the son's extensive partying habits and wasting much of his time in destructive pursuits.

What is a full life? Does someone really love life and love living if they participate in self-destruction or harmful pastimes, or even in ending their life prematurely? I don't think that can honestly be said. This is a bitter pill for those of us behind on earth to swallow when we see it happen to loved ones.

I had many of these thoughts after one funeral. I remember it particularly because it was a young adult who passed away. She was a wonderful girl and she is missed by her family. The man conducting the funeral service was an older gentleman who had seen much in his life. I wondered if the same things said at her funeral would be said at his someday. Did he love life and live it to the fullest? Was he not a quitter either? I guess that his life has had it's tremendous ups and downs, and perhaps he may have been a little envious of the rest from cares and sorrows she is receiving.

I wrote down many thoughts that night. I saw the paper the other day and read over it again. Not long before that, I'd been watching one of our favorite TV shows (I don't watch much TV but am arrogant enough to think that what I do watch is really high quality) about a hospital staff. A patient had been misdiagnosed with cancer and was told he was going to die. When the mistake was found, he sued the hospital for ruining his life (he'd sold all his things and was planning to live it up the last few months of his life). As two doctors loudly discussed how finding out you'll live is a bad thing, the one sensible doctor spit it out simply, "Dying is easy, living is hard!" I'm not saying dying is always a pleasant thing, but living an extra couple of decades vs. dying over the course of a few months, is not comparable. Even still, it's the being alive and fighting the illness that is the most difficult. Living is hard. It was meant to be. Those who have easy lives are just running away from the fights and trainings that would make them more godlike. Becoming god-like is difficult and costly in terms of effort.

Missions are like mini lifetimes. You start out young and stupid, become experienced, train a greenie or two, go through a mid-mission crisis, and eventually prepare yourself to come home. How you live your life/mission reflects how you go home. Not that those who are ready to go home won't miss their time on earth, but for the righteous and decent, the afterlife will be sweet and pleasant. Just have courage during the transitional phase and take it head on. Be happy for those who are ahead of us and think about how they're getting on. And miss them wonderfully.

This may seem disjointed and all over the place. Forgive me, it's late and if I wanted to put down everything in a way I would be satisfied with, I'd have written a small volume. This entry is long enough already. Maybe someday I'll write books, on death, and everyone will think I'm morbid.

Many wonderful people, who accomplished amazing amounts in short times, die young. Their stories get told across countries. This is good. But I will welcome the day when we celebrate all those who lived long, active, quiet lives, without so much recognition to keep themselves going and doing the good they did. I believe that such a day will come, because God is no respecter of persons. Hopefully many, if not all of my family and friends and loved ones will be a part of and the subjects of such a celebration.