March 2014 found me confronting ‘death’ for the first time
in a long time and it was in the Philippines of all places.
That month as a whole, was hard for me and truthfully, being
a missionary ‘sucked’. I missed home
the most, it was my birthday month, month 9 of the World Race and I was simply
sick of Asia (even though I don’t really consider the Philippines to be a part
of it…it’s like its own little great world! Seriously if you can visit it, you
should!) At this point, God had not ‘shown
up’ yet to me on the race in the way that I had
expected Him too. Don’t get me wrong, He TOTALLY DID show up oh so many ways,
every single day…but not how I was hoping/expecting. I was wanting God to heal and so far, He hadn’t.
I recall it being a ‘cooler’ Filipino day (if there is such)
as the constant heat and humidity was finally giving us a break. My team and I knew that today, we would be
attending the funeral of a local church lady whom myself and another teammate
had prayed prayers of healing and peace over, just a few days (week)
prior. Truth be told, the day of the
funeral was NOT a good day on so many different levels. Some of which I can share, while others will
remain quiet.
As I mentioned, a teammate and I had visited this lady a few
days prior to pray for her. In my mind,
this was the PERFECT chance for God to “show up” and heal…yet here I was,
attending the funeral…WHAM…”Okay God, did you miss the memo? Or what’s up? Can you explain it to me? Cause
I don’t get it” were just a few of the thoughts and questions going through my
head. But it was what it was (as cold as
that may sound). Our contacts reminded
us that this lady was not free of her earthly body and was rejoicing with The
Lord above. Heaven got another angel.
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This past weekend, I attended another funeral. As I listened to people share stories, verses
and special memories of whose life we were celebrating, the realization once
again of how short life on earth really is…hit me. I couldn’t help but think, “what will people
say about me, when its my turn for my Lord and Saviour to welcome me home?” Yes, given the context perhaps it seems
selfish of me (and maybe it is) but naturally, the thought crossed my mind.
What WILL I be
remembered for? WHO am I living this
life for?
Life is precious. Life is oh so very precious. In reality, both of these ladies ultimately
made it to where they wanted to end up one day.
They made it to a place that our English language cannot even come close
to describing. They arrived home. Safe and sound. I know that upon getting there, they both heard the words, ‘well done GOOD
and Faithful servant’.
Does knowing that, make the pain here on earth easier?
That’s not for me to answer.
What I can say though, is that God was (and still is)
glorified through both of those lives lived.
And I can only hope that someday…the same will be said about
me as I walk into those pearly white gates and hear the words, “Well done good
and faithful servant”
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