Am I afraid of Death?

Today I catch up with my friend Lynn at www.ladybug-chronicles.blogspot.com on our weekly meme Growing in Faith.

In the weekly study she has touched many things in which I have not thought of in a while, or just not cemented my thoughts on. Death being one of them. I am grateful for this as it causes me to really prove all things.

As a child I was fearful of death, due to lack of understanding the "bigger" picture. It was definately fear of the unknown moreso than to fear death itself.

Since we were a military family, we did not live close to grandparents and other family that much. I remember visiting my grandfather when I was about 8 or so, he quickly became a hero to me. He was so tall (from a childs persective) I was sure he could reach up and touch the stars, literally. A couple of years later, Grandpa and Gramma came to Arizona to visit us, again he filled my heart with knowing how much he loved me. I sat on his lap, his huge stature I could not help but feel safe.

After they returned home, my Grandpa died. I was angry and heartbroken. It was not fair.

Time went by, I got to spend time with my Nana and Grandad in England, another hero in my Grandad, we worked together for a while, and I lived with them for about 6 months. My darling Nana, never sat during the day, always busy, she patiently teaches me to knit, we take walks together, the gift of time. Then my sweet Grandad, always quick with a smile and a hug. Grandad died of cancer, Nana died of a stroke.
Again when they died, I was angry and broken...It was not fair!

Time goes by. My dad, my hero, for I always was a daddy's girl. I sat by his side, he struggled for years with this disease that was now killing him. He struggles for breath, unable to wake, but not quite asleep. I reassure him when he calls for my mother when she is out of the room that she will be back in just a moment. The breathing becomes more shallow, longer between each breath, until his chest no longer rises and falls. My hand on his chest, no beating. His hand is limp. His pain riddled body now looks at rest. This time the pain is unbearable, I cry out. I am heartbroken. But the anger is no longer there.

In reflection, the anger was misdirected fear of not knowing what happens. I had heard of all of the worldly teachings...maybe he will come back as a rat or a dog, maybe they would come back as a president or a pauper. Maybe there was nothing after death. Death scared me. Until my father's death, I had never witnessed death. It is an ugly, painful thing in which satan rejoices as he causes God's children to stumble and hurt and cry.

A few years ago,a friend of mine had a severe heart attack, they had to use paddles on him numerous times. He ended up with bypass surgeries, and a pace maker. When he awoke, his first question to the doctors "Am I going to see Jesus today?" WOW! He did not go to Jesus that day, in fact he is teaching in a local church with enthusiasm and love for Jesus that I have never seen before. The point. That his first thought on waking was that he wanted to see his beloved Saviour, and was almost disappointed when he was told no.

I do not fear death any longer. I think understand more of what it is. It was introduced via Satan, Gods enemy. It was welcomed by satan to separate God and his children. It causes pain to us, God's precious creations, thus this must hurt my Heavenly Father. Nothing was suppose to die until sin was invited into the world.

Now, I do not fear death, for I will be at Jesus side. God knows when I am coming home, I can do nothing to change that, for It is already written. I pray God won't take me today or tomorrow, for I want to see the little ones grow up, I want to grow old with my beloved, but if it does, my fear is more for those I leave behind, that they will not fear death and I pray they will remain faithful that they will be with me in heaven some day.

Death is no longer the victor, for Jesus has beaten it, for the sake of you and me.