We are born to die.
When we draw our first breath, most of us are surrounded by people whose most urgent concern is to keep that initial breath from being our last one.
But the last one will come. Inevitably. Part of living is dying, and most of us don’t get a choice about when.
I visited a longtime friend today. He’s been actively dying, inch by inch, for at least 35 years. Dread diseases have robbed him of sight, left him lame, ravaged his skin, riddled his heart, and now cost him a leg.
Who among us would not opt instead for an instant, painless
end? Passengers in the fiery crash of that French Concorde didn’t have long to
worry about dying. Nor did most of the sailors aboard
All of us know we’re going to die, but most of us don’t know when.
Up in
On the same day in August, 2000, 13-year-old Ivan Smith and
three companions decided to dig a hole in the sand at Salisbury Beach Club in
How ready will we be?
Having buried my own parents in recent times, I am trying harder these days to keep my own business affairs ledgered and documented clearly so my wife and kids won’t inherit a mess if I run out of days unexpectedly.
Having good health does not guarantee me that any breath might not be my last. So I try to make sure that the people I love know all the time that I love them.
Since death is unavoidable, I try to live every moment in
harmony with God, secure in his grace because I trust in what he did for me on
What about you? How ready are you to die?