Tonight I’m Going to Cry

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.