Chapter 10 ~ I Will Lead You Home

I've never written about the topic of this chapter very well. It's daunting truth is such a heavy burden for so many. I have seen it, I have touched it, I have spoke to it and I have shared the path with many who have been left behind.

BUT...

I've never walked through that valley. No one I know has and returned. Except one. The Shepherd. Not David, Jesus. The Good Shepherd.

I still remember the conversations I had with my dad at breakfast a few years before he died. They are milestones in my life as well as wonderful memories.

I still remember the day he died. It was not a day full of grief, it was actually one of relief. No guilt over the relief. His life has been stolen by Parkinson's. His voice that I so often heard and enjoyed was gone. His wit, which was actually embarrassing on occasion, had been quieted by the weakness of immobility. His strength, waning as his body was too. I still remember his "pride" coming through each time I visited. He would reach out his hand to shake mine and he would say in some form, "I still have my grip", which meant he felt like he was still strong. He was not. During the last week of his life (which we didn't know at the time), he didn't offer me his hand.

My father's eyes had always been a light into his mood. Like a window to his emotion. Like a glass wall that seemed to say much, even when words didn't. As I cared for his body and his being seven of the last eight days of his life, I saw a man who was worn by time and who was, for the first time I had ever seen, fearful. Tears would be shed that week, by both of us. His would end. Mine would continue. It was Sunday, February 19, 2006, all tears were wiped away from my father's eyes. He left the heavy world of sin and sickness behind, to open his eyes in the land promised to him.

A land promised to you and I as well. If we know the Shepherd.

As I read this chapter, there were things that stood out. I'd like to share a few of those with you. I would love to hear your take on them. Here they are...

• In a life marked by doctor appointments, dentist appointments, and school appointments, there is one appointment none of us will miss, the appointment of death.
• In his plan, everyone must die, even those who eat right and take their vitamins. (sorry, I enjoyed this one more than the rest of the chapter, sorry for my immaturity.)
• The wise remember the brevity of life.
• Exercise may buy us a few more heartbeats. Medicine may grant us a few more breaths. but in the end, there is an end.
• David's implied message is subtle but crucial. Don't face death without facing God. Don't even speak of death without speaking to God. He and he alone can guide you through the valley. Others may speculate or aspire, but only God knows the way to get you home. and only God is committed to getting you there safely.

I wonder. What did you think about when you read this chapter. I even wonder, what would you say to others who are facing death.

In the past I often would quote scripture and pray with those whose life was waning and whose days were growing few. It was almost like I had an agenda to "fix" the situation. I came to realize that was not compassion. I have not abandoned the practice of prayer and scripture reading. What I have done is I have added something to it. When I get the chance to walk alongside of a person, especially a believer, I have a tendency to be real. I don't speak of what I don't know. I am careful how quickly I put up my "wall" and guard my heart by simply quoting passages and giving empty platitudes of comfort. You may not realize it, but this often exposes your fears of death and actually shows how uncomfortable you are with death. I don't blame you, I have always had a sense of fear of my demise. But, as I've walked this trail to glory with others, my heart has been filled with hope, faith and peace.

Now I actually ask them about prayer and scripture reading. You may say what is the difference? As I see it, I am allowing the person who knows what they need to tell me instead of me being so arrogant to think I know what they need.

You may say... "what if they don't know what they need?"

I still don't venture into their world like a bull in a china shop assuming I have the answers they need to hear. Instead, I enter their world with reverence. This is a holy moment for the believer. I watch. In wonder. In amazement. In bewilderment. In awe. In hope. Hope that makes it's way into the heart of the one on the journey. Hope that can comfort the traveler and often elude those who are left here.

I would like to say that my intellect, discernment and sophisticated learning came to my rescue in this area and I applied those lessons like wisdom while encouraging a dying saint, but that would be a lie.

What has taught me much more than my educated paths ever could, is to look into the valley (of the shadow of death) and see, not just truth, but The Truth. And I am thankful for the faith of those who have passed over Jordan before me, both the scared and the brave. Who despite the weight of death, seemed to find a rod and a staff to guide them, comfort them and translate them into the presence of the Shepherd.

I have seen many people die. It never seems to get any easier. It almost certainly reminds me that this time here on earth is precious. And short.

I don't know where this quote of Max Lucado's came from. It hangs in my the closet I use for my bookkeeping records and sitting at that small desk today, I found it fitting to see it, considering the topic of this weeks' chapter. It reads, "In God's Plan, Every Life Is Long Enough." (capital letter are Max's not mine).

Let that sink in the next time you think that God has taken a life too soon.

'till next time, I'd love to hear your thoughts....

Comment away, others may want to hear them as well...