Victory in Death and Missing Dorothy
“The enjoyment of God is the only happiness with which our souls can be satisfied. To go to heaven, fully to enjoy God, is infinitely better than the most pleasant accommodations here....These are but shadows; but God is the substance. These are but streams; but God is the ocean.”
“Death is a natural part of life.” Oh yes, that sounds right. It seems to have a deep wisdom about it. The statement is implying something more than the straightforward fact that, yes, everyone has a lifespan. It is implying that there is an inherent beauty in death; that death, in and of itself is the completion of life. Before I had ever walked near the shadow, I thought these words would be very comforting to someone who had just lost their beloved. Isn’t it beautiful how we can all be part of the circle of life? Shouldn’t this bring acceptance?
I was first struck deeply by the mockery of this idea when I saw death come to a dear family member in a sudden way over 20 years ago. Every cell in my being was crying out, “This is wrong! Wrong!” It was the furthest thing from natural and right. It felt warped and twisted and...wrong. It was ugly and violent and harsh.
Fifteen years later I found myself walking the road again. The remarkable thing was that the first person to take me into her arms in comfort when I lost the aforementioned loved one was the same woman who was now lying in a hospital bed struggling to breathe; knowing that death was coming. I can still feel the empathy and compassion with which this woman, who had become my mother-in-law, held me in that hospital so long ago.
In the earlier days as my mother-in-law, Dorothy, fought bravely against the cancer, much of the time I did not feel like crying. But I felt agitated. Scattered. Unsettled, unable to fall asleep. I thought about her with heaviness but not tears and eventually I realized why. I remembered how much I hate death. But I also realized that it would be wrong to linger there because through Jesus Christ we have victory over death. Shortly after this I was graciously given a visual reminder of the victory we have over death.
One evening, nearing the end, when my husband, our four children, and I crept into her hospital room to have a short visit before bed, she was sitting in a chair across from my father-in-law. They were beside a dark window with a low light shining dimly on them, having a quiet conversation. As we came into the room they looked up and I was struck by her countenance. I knew there was a natural, lovely atmosphere that was created by the lighting but she, most certainly, had an unearthly glow about her face. As she grinned at our arrival a warmth came from her that spoke life into the room. It spoke victory to me. Her steadfast faith in her Savior transformed this meek, shy, selfless woman into a warrior.
Over the next several months we would watch her suffer deeply. The curse of death was real and ugly but the ultimate victory of Christ in her defeating death was clearly evident to those around her. When she had strength she would whisper of His faithfulness to her. She said she was excited to see dear family members in heaven; her sister, her father but she made it abundantly clear that, so much more than that, she longed for her Savior’s face.
It is four years today since she was brought safely to His presence. The last few minutes of her life will stay with me always. She was sung into heaven by her husband and both her children. I am convinced that a king in all his glory could not have been given a more beautiful farewell. And since that day I am regularly reminded of both the ugliness of death as well as the supernatural victory that we have as believers in a warrior God.
The road of grief is a twisted and confusing one; rarely feeling natural or “a part of life.” It can manifest itself in countless ways we would never expect. But if I have the courage to think about her death then I immediately think of her life and I am greatly comforted. More than that, my faith is also shored up. Now, when I read Hebrews 12:1-2 I think of my mother-in-law and I am urged to “lay aside every weight and the sin which clings so closely.” I was given the invaluable gift of being able to watch a Christian run the race with endurance and sprint hard to the finish line; in spirit, if not in body. I am so grateful to serve a God who does not find death natural. He hates it and can, therefore, comfort us in our grief. And if we are attentive, we will see countless ways to be reminded of his ultimate victory over death.
