Michael wasn’t scared of death.  But Michael was always very brave.  He would press forward to try things that he had never done before.  He would dream of bigger things than I could dream.  He would make plans far into the future for the development of ideas and ministries and opportunities.

So many times during Michael’s illness and even after his death, people prayed the 23^rd Psalm.  In particular I think of the 4^th verse.

Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil for You are with me.

To walk through the valley of the shadow of death.  It’s just the shadow of death.  But to cast a shadow that covers a valley, death must be large and looming.  And to cast a shadow, death must come between the valley and the light.  So I picture this large looming presence that blocks the light.  It doesn’t eliminate the light.  The light is still there.  But it blocks our view of the light.  Maybe death wants us to think the light is gone, or ineffective.  This, to me, is a little scary.

To me, death is a little scary.  It’s not what happens after death.  I know my eternity is with God and all that He promises in His word.  I know that He will never leave me or forsake me.  (Hebrews 13:5)  I know that nothing can separate me from His love in Christ Jesus.  (Romans 8:38-39)  But it’s the transition from this life to the next, the door that we walk through to go from this life to the next, that’s a little scary to me.  I guess because I’ve never done that before. I’ve never made that transition.  I’ve not walked through that doorway.  And anything I’ve never done is a little scary for me to do.

But I admit that since Michael’s death, it is a little less scary for me.  For one, because I saw him make the transition so bravely and so peacefully.  But most of all because I know that now, when I do make the transition, Michael will be there to hold the door open for me.  Just like he’s held open my door for so many years.  When the time comes I picture him being there to hold the door open for me so I can walk through and see Jesus face to face.  And that makes it a little less scary to me.

As a friend recently told me – Heaven is a little more real to me because I have so much invested there.  Michael.  A child never born.  Mom and Dad.  And so many others we have loved and lost over the years.

Update: I recently heard someone say, regarding all the scriptures we quote:  “What if it’s actually true?  What if all those verses we say we believe are actually true?  And what if we actually lived like it?”

The thoughts above, I wrote within just a few weeks of Michael’s death.  And I still feel every one of them.  But as time passes I tell you that I marvel at Michael’s faith.  It is one thing for me to lay my head down each night knowing that I may not wake in the morning.  But I’ve always waken.  And most of us do.  It’s quite another thing to know that God is ready for you to come home, ask for the medical care to end and know that you are looking for the last time at your family and friends.  What incredible faith he exercised in knowing that when he closed his eyes he would no longer be on this earth.  What incredible faith he showed by closing his eyes to know he would open them in the presence of God.  He walked ahead of me through that doorway.

Because He lives I can face tomorrow
Because He lives all fear is gone
Because I know He holds the future
And life is worth the living just because He lives

And then one day I’ll cross the river
I’ll fight life’s final war with pain
And then as death gives way to victory
I’ll see the lights of glory and I’ll know He lives

Because He lives I can face tomorrow
Because He lives all fear is gone
Because I know He holds the future
And life is worth the living just because He lives