Walking alone
I guess I'm in a writing mood today. I've been thinking about a story I'm working on and here I am writing another journal entry. This one is on walking alone and is sure to perk up the ears of a few athiest. But here it goes.
My minister said to the congregation one day, you know what I'd do if I wasn't saved. I'd get saved. Now at the time my life was near perfect. I was working and newly marrried to the best man on the planet( in my eyes. I'm sure you'll disagree.) True, my mother had passed, but I knew where she was, so I was at a good point in my life.
One day, at work, one of my coworkers sat staring at his desk. He was normally a talkative sort of person so I asked if everything was okay. He looked at me with sad eyes, tears coming to them that he wiped away. He said no. His mother was dying. I felt so sorry for him. I'd lost my mother just four years before. We'd been close, like sisters, twin sisters. I knew how it felt to lose your best friend.
Anyhow, he asked how did I get through it. And I told him. I looked to God for help, I said. My mother was saved so I knew where she going. In fact, before she passed, she used to talk about going to Heaven, seeing all her family. She was excited, like a person going away on one of the best vactions they'd always wanted. Don't get me wrong, I wanted to keep her. But her body was failing. And she was ready to go home.
On the day my mother passed, the hospice nurse told us how she would be breathing heavily. They were basically telling us that her homegoing would be hard. That Sunday morning, I went to church and the whole congregation prayed for her to have a good home going. Later that night, my mother was lifted into the arms of God without suffereing. And I had the privledge of being there. I'll never forget the feeling as the spirit of God entered the room. My soul felt surrounded by the angels and I felt the past of all who'd gone before my Mom enter the room. It was truly beautiful.
I was telling this to my coworker, hoping to give him strength. There was nothing the doctor could do for the poor woman. They'd sent her home to die. He talked about the horror of it all. How could life end like that, he asked? But I didn't see it ending. And I told him that through the blood of Jesus we have everlasting life. There is no end. That's when he told me that he was an athiest. His mother wasn't a believer either. What can you say to that? I was stunned.
We Christians often take for granted the gift of everlasting life. At nearly every funeral service the preacher or someone talks about the loved one being in a better place. People take comfort in that fact. They return to their normal lives grieving, but holding on to the belief that they will be reunited with their loved ones one day.
But for the athiest--a group of people who see we Christians as weak--what comfort do they have? They mock us sometimes, telling us that we need to let go of our crutch. We are so different, but yet we have much in common: We live and love. We work side by side on the same jobs. We struggle through life. The difference is the strength we have through God. We don't have to carry our burden unless we want to. It's an option for us; not a requirement.
The atheist must carry every burden and at the end of their lives, when we are sometimes at our weakest, they have nothing to rely on. They face complete darkness--no hope, no light. And when they lose a loved one there is no hope of meeting them again one day. That person is dead, while the Christian knows that their loved one is still alive.
So now my coworker was facing death--true death, and I could not find words that would make him feel better. Earlier, he'd asked me a question, but now I had one for him.
How do you deal with losing your mother without God there to help you through it?
He looked at me and basically said that he was hoping for a medical breakthrough, but that he wasn't holding out hope for it. When he said that, I thought about how many times atheist refered to Christians as weak. But now looking into his eyes, I saw no strength in them.
My minister said to the congregation one day, you know what I'd do if I wasn't saved. I'd get saved. Now at the time my life was near perfect. I was working and newly marrried to the best man on the planet( in my eyes. I'm sure you'll disagree.) True, my mother had passed, but I knew where she was, so I was at a good point in my life.
One day, at work, one of my coworkers sat staring at his desk. He was normally a talkative sort of person so I asked if everything was okay. He looked at me with sad eyes, tears coming to them that he wiped away. He said no. His mother was dying. I felt so sorry for him. I'd lost my mother just four years before. We'd been close, like sisters, twin sisters. I knew how it felt to lose your best friend.
Anyhow, he asked how did I get through it. And I told him. I looked to God for help, I said. My mother was saved so I knew where she going. In fact, before she passed, she used to talk about going to Heaven, seeing all her family. She was excited, like a person going away on one of the best vactions they'd always wanted. Don't get me wrong, I wanted to keep her. But her body was failing. And she was ready to go home.
On the day my mother passed, the hospice nurse told us how she would be breathing heavily. They were basically telling us that her homegoing would be hard. That Sunday morning, I went to church and the whole congregation prayed for her to have a good home going. Later that night, my mother was lifted into the arms of God without suffereing. And I had the privledge of being there. I'll never forget the feeling as the spirit of God entered the room. My soul felt surrounded by the angels and I felt the past of all who'd gone before my Mom enter the room. It was truly beautiful.
I was telling this to my coworker, hoping to give him strength. There was nothing the doctor could do for the poor woman. They'd sent her home to die. He talked about the horror of it all. How could life end like that, he asked? But I didn't see it ending. And I told him that through the blood of Jesus we have everlasting life. There is no end. That's when he told me that he was an athiest. His mother wasn't a believer either. What can you say to that? I was stunned.
We Christians often take for granted the gift of everlasting life. At nearly every funeral service the preacher or someone talks about the loved one being in a better place. People take comfort in that fact. They return to their normal lives grieving, but holding on to the belief that they will be reunited with their loved ones one day.
But for the athiest--a group of people who see we Christians as weak--what comfort do they have? They mock us sometimes, telling us that we need to let go of our crutch. We are so different, but yet we have much in common: We live and love. We work side by side on the same jobs. We struggle through life. The difference is the strength we have through God. We don't have to carry our burden unless we want to. It's an option for us; not a requirement.
The atheist must carry every burden and at the end of their lives, when we are sometimes at our weakest, they have nothing to rely on. They face complete darkness--no hope, no light. And when they lose a loved one there is no hope of meeting them again one day. That person is dead, while the Christian knows that their loved one is still alive.
So now my coworker was facing death--true death, and I could not find words that would make him feel better. Earlier, he'd asked me a question, but now I had one for him.
How do you deal with losing your mother without God there to help you through it?
He looked at me and basically said that he was hoping for a medical breakthrough, but that he wasn't holding out hope for it. When he said that, I thought about how many times atheist refered to Christians as weak. But now looking into his eyes, I saw no strength in them.
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