My friend died today.
I checked my phone after a meeting this morning to find 17 missed
calls/texts/voicemails. I didn’t have to
wait the hour to get home to check my email to know exactly what had
happened.
She’s been battling cancer for ultimately her whole life,
but rigorously for the past 4 years. So
this news was expected. Expected
maybe. But that doesn’t make it good or
right. She was 24 years old. There is nothing right about it.
I’ve known her the past four years. She was the first person I every truly
trusted. I’ve known her for four years,
but really only for about 2 months. And
then the brain tumor hit. With a friend
I cried out, asking God why she was on cancer round three, why two perfectly
healthy people like us sat by and watched while her body was ravaged by this
disease. And there is no answer. At least not one that is satisfying.
It’s not fair, it’s not good, and it’s not right that she
died. Some of you might say that’s me
doubting God. I’m not. I know God is fair. I know God is good. I know God is right.
But it’s ok to not always try to see a silver lining in
death. It’s ok to mourn. It is good to mourn. It is right to mourn. Because death is neither.
Death is not what God intended for us and was not in the
world he originally created – a place without shame, a place without fear, a
place without suffering, a place without sadness, a place without cancer, a
place without death.
It is right to mourn death.
There is death because there is sin.
We should not go a day without mourning the sin that is in this world
and the sin that is in our hearts.
I was on campus the other day sharing an illustration of the
gospel with a sophomore USC student. The
illustration shared of a world doomed to death and eternal separation from God
because of their sin and choice to turn away from God. It shared of a good and perfect God who,
because of His great love, wanted to offer a free gift of eternal life. It shared of the death of Jesus Christ on the
cross; a death that makes salvation, eternal life, and hope possible. It shared of a resurrected Christ seated at
the right hand of God, living as Lord and Savior and interceding on our
behalf.
When I finished sharing the girl thanked me for sharing what
I believed and respectfully disagreed.
She then asked why I felt the need to share that message with
others. And I told her:
“I believe with every fiber of my being that this
illustration is true. That we are an
imperfect people destined for an eternal life separate from God, but who have
been offered redemption through believing in the risen Christ. This free gift of eternal life and
relationship with the Lord of all has been given to me. How can I not
share?”
The sting of my friend’s death is lessened knowing that she
loved the Lord and knowing that her eternity is better than my present. But that doesn’t make death ok. That doesn’t make suffering ok.
I wish my family knew the Lord. I wish my coworkers knew the Lord. I wish the people I pass on the street every
day knew the Lord. I wish the entire student
population of USC knew the Lord. I wish
Los Angeles knew the Lord. I wish South
Africa knew the Lord.
Thankfully I serve a big God who does beyond what I can
imagine or even think possible.
Thankfully these wishes are more than wishes; they are prayers I can
pray powerfully and boldly, knowing my God loves greater than I ever can, aches
more than I ever will, and does what I have already deemed impossible.
Death is not ok.
Tonight I’m going to cry and ache for my friend.
Tomorrow I will continue to proclaim the victory of
Christ. Death will never win. After all, it’s already been defeated.
