I don’t want to dwell on the subject too much, but I’m still experiencing new insights and emotions stemming from my recent heart attack and surgery.
Today, I sat through the funeral service for the father of some childhood friends of ours. Thankfully, he was a follower of Christ, and his homegoing was more of a celebration than a time of mourning.
But it was when I walked up to the casket a little while ago that the cold reality of my own mortality chilled me. It’s one thing to say you know that death will come to us all, that one day we all will breath our last breath and meet God, but had it not been for a shift change and a doctor who did one more blood test, I would have been in a casket last week!
It is appointed unto man once to die, and after that the judgment (Hebrews 9:27). I could have been in the presence of God at this moment, but I’m not. I could have been lying there, stiff, cold, dressed in my best suit. I could have been dead, but I wasn’t.
Yet, it will happen, eventually.
You, me, all of us…it will happen.
But here’s the disturbing thing: no matter how much I’d like to boast to the contrary, I’m not ready, at least not nearly enough.
Sure, my salvation is secure; that’s not the issue. I will be clothed in the righteousness of Christ, and my works will have nothing to do with whether or not I will enter into the presence of my Father and King; by grace I am saved through faith.
But I wasn’t ready last week, and I’m barely more ready, today. What am I talking about?
I wasn’t living with the immediate expectation that at any moment my number would be called, that my appointment was near. Maybe this is why I did not have a real sense of urgency. I was living like tomorrow was a given.
But it’s not.
Some have asked, “I bet you feel like you’ve been given a new lease on life, don’t you?” Well, yeah! But it’s only a “lease,” and one day what I’ve been given must be returned.
Did you know there are penalties for returning a leased car in poor condition?
I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’ve been acting more like I own this ride, but in reality I should be cleaning out the cup holders and doing a little vacuuming.
I don’t know when my lease is up.
Do you?
(Expect more thoughts on this subject as reality continues to sink in.)
The Recovering Legalist 
Interesting post and interesting questions. I know exactly what you mean. There are days when I do think I’m ready and there are days when I know there are yet many lessons to be learned. Additional time is grace, not everyone gets that. Use it wisely. For me, personally, it meant getting real with Jesus and I’m still doing that. The uncertainty lifts and the grace and patience of God surpasses what one may expect. He stretches our faith, trust and dependency in Him until we know that our completeness truly resides entirely in Him. Leaving this world behind is really about going home and the time we are given here is to bring that reality to the forefront of our hearts and minds. Grace and blessings my friend.
One time I asked an elderly person (nearly 100) what it was like knowing that every day was a bonus, considering 70 or so is the average limit. But even though that made sense at the time, it’s really a foolish perspective overall. Every day we should have our ear to the track listen for the train.
Having cheated death more than my fair share, I try to take each breath and each day as a day that says I am alive because of God. It is very hard to know that 2 years ago I could have died not once but twice in a matter of 15 days. Yet, most days I fail to even give any God away. It boggles my mind that I was nearly dead twice in those brief days and the only thing I remember is how angry I felt that all I got that Christmas was a set of sheets for a bed that I did not have (Cal King and I had a queen) and a stupid toothbrush. That’s what almost dying got me a rusted out dollar store battery operated toothbrush and sheets for a bed that was not mine. Oh and the hearing that my family actually believed I was going to die BUT thank GOD for my other family who bombarded heaven with prayers for another spare. Yet, I still fall short of the goal line when it comes to being a daughter of the most high God. I am not the best witness to my birth family. They see me raw and unglued but still trying. My friends, well they see me really super raw and tears streaming down my face repenting because I know I am not the best daughter and I want to hide because I am not ready to see my Dad yet. I have to face my Dad and say “I am sorry, help me be a better daughter. ”
And looking in my car I need to do a better job of keeping it clean. Thank you for such a stark look at this…WOW…
Get you a Holy Spirit-powered mini-vac 😁
Me either.. Our body was never meant to die and It doesn’t want to. As a nurse I have seen people hold on until It MUST go. I hope I let go when our God calls.:)
Thank you for this post. There are days when I feel ready and there are days when I feel I am not. Reality is we will never ever be fully ready. I can only put my hope and trust in the finished work of Christ that became real to me. Does not mean I don’t pursue holiness or be intentional about living the kingdom life, and doing my part to complete the Great Commission. However, at the end of the day, I simply realize how broken and fragile I am and how so far short I fall of his glory (righteous standards) still. So when that day comes, I know I won’t be fully ready. But I also know that he will be ready to welcome me. Because of what he’s done.
Amen! I think what I wrote has struck a nerve. But won’t it be awesome when we get home to have the Father welcome us, despite our waywardness, and hear the devil somewhere in the distance yelling, “Wait! Don’t you know what they did?!!”?
May our realization of inadequacy cause our hearts to burn for Him, because of grace.
God bless you, my brother.