Why Does Death Happen?

 Gal wrote me a note asking, “Why does death happen?”  I had
to think for quite some time to come up with a response and I’m still
not sure I have a good one, but here it goes:
Why Does Death Happen?

Oh,
how many answers are there to this question? The answers are
uncountable! From a purely physical standpoint, we run out. Our bodies
just run out, there is nothing left to them. Or, if we weren’t lucky
enough to run out, something went wrong. We are so freakin’ imperfect,
cells multiply when they’re not supposed to (cancer), they don’t
multiply when they should (immune disorders), other cells invade us
(viruses and infections). You name it. So much can go wrong it’s a
miracle we live at all! And, of course, it’s a good thing stuff DOES go
wrong because, as it is, we’re having a heck of a time with
overpopulation really. If people didn’t die, where would we fit ‘em
all? So, physically, death HAS to happen or there would simply not be
enough room PLUS (and this leads into the next answer) think of the
misery if death didn’t happen.

Who would want to live forever?
Not me. What if death didn’t happen and you were forced to live forever
on an earth that doesn’t have enough resources, starving and thirsty,
watching others who have more get their needs met while you go without
(because that’s what would happen in a world with too many people…
that’s what’s happening already to so many!) Or what if you had
horribly painful cancer or some other disease and had no death to look
forward to? Some people watch and wait eagerly for death because they
are in such terrible pain. What if there were no way to escape it?
Earth would quickly become eternal hell.

Then, of course, there
are people who are in so much mental and emotional anguish that they
feel death is the only way out. That may be the most selfish and unkind
thing they could possibly do to their loved ones, but it’s the only way
they felt they could deal with their situation or their emotional
misery. What if death wouldn’t come to them either? There are many
walking the road of life now who WON’T do away with themselves even
though each step of the journey is emotional torment for them. They
keep on going so as not to disturb their loved ones, but they await the
relief of death. What if there were no relief for them?

Finally,
as you know, I believe that death is the REAL destination. I believe
that this life here, on earth, is just a small stop on our journey
home. It sure doesn’t feel that way sometimes. It’s easy to forget that
this isn’t it. I’m constantly tempted to treat this life as the most
important thing there is. But, when push comes to shove, I try to
remember that the only thing that really counts is my Savior’s face and
how He will feel about me when I stand before Him in the end. Death,
for me, will be the doorway into where I REALLY want to be. And
someday, He will see fit to open it.

I believe death happens
to usher us into the Master’s realm and to bring us home to God. But I
believe death is tragic for those of us who are left behind. I don’t
cry for the one who is gone (although part of me wonders when someone
dies very young, did they get cheated out of life – missing things? Or
did they get blessed not having to endure life as tough as it can be?).
I cry for those of us who mourn their passing. I cry because I know I’m
going to miss that person and I can’t call them or talk to them. I cry
because I’m stuck back here in this lonely world without my friend or
this person I loved so much. And I cry because I’m moved about the live
of somebody who had such impact on me.

I’ve lost so many
friends. I have had a lot of gay friends who have died of AIDS. I had
another friend die of leukemia. A couple were killed from drunk drivers
(one of them WAS the drunk driver I’m sorry to say). One friend killed
himself, another drank himself to death. Each one has had a different
impact on me. Some left me more grief-stricken than others. Of course
I’ve also lost family. My dad died of Alzheimer’s Disease. Lord, that
was so hard to take. I had an Aunt die suddenly, they think from a
blood clot. Another Aunt died after a stroke. An uncle keeled over from
a heart attack. A dear dear woman who was almost like a second mom (she
was my best friend’s mom) to me died of cancer and years later another
second mom of mine died of a brain tumor. And a woman I worked with who
was mom to all died of tumors and obesity. Then there was a young man
from my work who was riding his racing bike, got hit by a car, flew
over it then got hit by another. He lay in a coma until his mom decided
to disconnect him from the IV and, like Terri Schaivo, he starved to
death. I was devastated by that one because when a pastor friend and I
went to see him, she lay hands on him and anointed him and when she
touched him, his body jumped as if electricity went through it. Clearly
something mystical happened in that moment and I believed there was
hope for his recovery. I prayed and fasted for him and my faith was
sorely tested when he was allowed to die.

So I guess I also
believe that death happens to remind us that life is limited and we
need to use it and not just let it slip through our fingers. When we’re
gone the only thing that will be left of us here on earth will be the
memories that others have of us. What will we leave behind? Will we
leave people who are encouraged and better able to continue on their
difficult journey here? Or will we be leaving potholes and injuries?
Will the thought of us give someone a tender feeling on a lonely night
or will it cause them to have to have a drink of wine and spill tears?
When I think back on each of the people I’ve remembered above, I feel
it was such a privilege to know every one of them. I remember each of
their brilliant smiles and some of the words that each spoke to me that
have helped me become a better person. And when I cry over them, it’s
only because I’m grateful that God would allow me to have had them in
my life, and I wish they were still here to guide me and laugh with me.
My life was richer for having known them and I hope to see each and
every one of them again when I get to the other side.