The Truest Act of Courage

Original post: July 2023; condensed and edited.

Regardless of who you are, or what you believe, when you take that last breath you are walking into an unknown. You leave all that is familiar here and all those you love to walk into unfamiliar.

You leave work undone. A yard un-mowed and bills unpaid. You have week old meatloaf left in the fridge and the dog hasn’t been fed today. Or, walked or pottied. You didn’t get back with your friend about breakfast on Saturday. And your flight on Tuesday is still scheduled to depart at 10:15 am.

Having godly faith gives you knowledge of where you are walking toward. But we also know that we are not coming back to this familiarity. And truthfully, it is a little scary to me.

Being quite human, I hang onto the loves I have here on earth. I am enchanted with each and every autumn. I love the rocky coast of Maine. I breathe in the seasons and crave the sunshine on my face. I have places yet to explore and sunsets to watch as they fade into tomorrow. And I have people.

I have hands to hold, weddings to attend, stories to write, and tears to dry. Little arms that reach up to me for comfort and love. I have family to care for, problems to solve, strangers to help, and personal lessons yet to learn.

As I think about walking into that unknown, I have questions. Lots of them.

Have I been pleasing to God? Have I un-repented sin hanging over me? Have I obeyed God’s will to my fullest ability? Is there anything I’ve done that his grace won’t cover? Have I left something of importance undone? Were my thoughts and actions pure? What will the judgment be like? Did I love God enough? Did I have faith enough?

Watching my friend, Matt, prepare to leave this earth was the most emotional experience of my life. He left a deeply embedded imprint on my heart. One that I will carry all my days.

Being a retired ER physician, Matt understood more about what was going on medically than we did. There are pros and cons to being in his situation with that knowledge. The doctor side of him knew the reality of his prognosis, but the man in him desired to push through it all with a hope that he could stay just a little bit longer. So his heart was torn between Matt, the doctor, and Matt, the man. I cannot imagine that internal conflict and pain.

God was gracious that we had days to share with him. Actually, he had a few months to prepare as his health and prognosis traveled over sunny mountaintops and through the darkest valleys. We had hope. And then we didn’t. Then we had hope again. During this time, he was able to have long discussions with his son and daughter-in-law, and with his siblings as well. He spoke with some friends over the phone when he was able and had visits from many friends prior to this last hospital stay.

When I spoke with him just prior to the life-changing event that finally canceled any chance of survival, he still had dreams and goals. He had people he wanted to help. He had his cabin to finish and farm animals to care for. He had a new grandson who was the delight of his world. And, yes, he desired to watch that little man grow up into an amazing big man. He had plans and a grand future ahead of him.

Then that dreaded day came. After all of the heartbreaking, final goodbyes were exchanged, it came time to remove a lifesaving device from Matt’s chest. Before doing so, the doctor asked him the hardest question ever.

“Matt, are you ready?”

And, Matt said, “I am ready.”

I cannot get that moment out of my mind. The courage for him to let go even as he was surrounded by the ones he did not want to leave.

So, do I lack faith because I don’t want to leave yet? Does it mean I love God less? I don’t believe so. We are to love God first and foremost, yet Jesus still wept when Lazarus died. Jesus knows every bit of our humanness and he is compassionate towards us. God gave us a lifetime here on earth to love and be a part of the world he created. He gave us jobs to do and roles to fulfill. He knows…he absolutely knows…the difficulty in leaving this life behind. It’s all we’ve known because we saw it first hand. We lived it and loved deeply within it.

We typically do not know when our last day on earth will be. Often it blindsides us and there are no goodbyes. It’s not like that day is penciled in on our calendar. But our day will come just as it did for our parents and grandparents, and great-grandparents, and so on.

The point is that we need to make sure our lives are not is disarray. And by that I mean, we need to be spiritually ready. We may not want to leave all the loves of this world. And that’s okay. But our spiritual life always needs to ready for that final question, “Are you ready?” .

♥️

Andi

Photos: all were taken in Florida, March 2021 in my father’s backyard.