In my line of work, Death is a familiar friend. But this past week, Death has frequented my thoughts more than usual. 

A Patient Pilgrimage 

At the bedside of one of our patients within moments of their last breath, it was different. There wasn’t family at the bedside to support and hold, but a compassionate caregiver fully present to each breath growing slower and quieter. 

Sitting quietly, I witnessed this miracle of death gifted to a body no longer able to support life within the constraints of this physical world and was immediately flooded with the library of wisdom I have collected over years of spending time with God in prayer and worship.
  

“We are not human beings having a spiritual experience,
but we are spiritual beings getting to have a human experience.”
 

“This isn’t our home… we are pilgrims journeying through
and will one day return to our true home with God.”
 

This pilgrim was almost home. The physical journey was coming to an end, yet the spiritual journey—a great mystery of the “more to come”—was just beginning.

 It is such a sacred surreal moment to watch the very breath God gave be taken away. Job 1: 21 says, “Naked I came out of my mother’s womb, and naked I shall return: the Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; Blessed be the Name of the Lord.”

 To me, the death of a body mirrors the birth of a baby. Whether birthing into earth or birthing into heaven, both require a true laboring process as the body crosses through a spiritual dimension. Whether God is giving or taking away physical life, it takes special eyes to see beyond the world we travel in. Eyes to see… ears to hear….

An Unexpected Cemetery Visit

One of the hazards of being an on-call hospice night nurse is driving in all sorts of areas in the dark. Screws and nails always seem to gravitate to my tires. It’s not unusual for me to have a tire repair monthly, if not more often. This has become a chronic irritation due the amount of time lost to repairs. While lamenting to God this week about having to surrender my morning prayer walk time for lobby time, I noticed a large cemetery across the road. 

Invitation accepted. 

This quiet road was paved with many emotions awakening my seeking heart. So many bodies lay resting underneath the granite memorials created by broken hearts of love. Row after row of stories of those who have traveled through these lands and now were safely cocooned in the womb of the earth. It was a profound hushed peace that held me as the elderly trees faithfully held watch over beloveds. I gently step by stepped upon this sacred holy ground. 

I saw “Hope” and “Myracle” engraved in stone, echoing what God had engraved upon my own heart, rushing my soul to gratitude for the gifts of His grace in the midst of the brutal battles within this world. 

Unexpectedly a most special gift emerged as I came upon “Mighty Miller’s” resting place. I didn’t know him personally but had prayerfully followed his journey on social media and watched his celebration of life. What a special young man. He and his beloved family fought brutal battles upon this earth. I sat at the foot of his grave in quiet prayer over his momma and her broken heart. 

A Favorite TV Series about 

Watching the final episode of “Outlander” (NO SPOILER ALERT!) hit my heart in such an unexpected way. Witnessing how brilliantly and unpredictably the author brought to a close such an epic love story continues to vibrate my thoughts around mortality and how one might begin to have those conversations with their loved ones. 

A Conversation with My Boy

There was the unexpected conversation with my own son about death and the choices we have now to prepare our lives and hearts for what is promised one day. Not in a fearful, morbid way but with discernment of discussions, preparations, and spending time in ways that will keep our hearts safe from regrets. 

There is a deep peace within knowing our plans are in order so our loved ones aren’t left having to make impossible decisions when the time comes. They are clearly directed when emotions are unpredictable. It is just as important to prepare for death as it is for life. 

In The Five Invitations, Frank Ostaseski sheds light on the preciousness of every moment and reminds us that the best preparation for death is forging an authentic and meaningful life, free of regret, detailing moments about what matters most, inviting one to wonder and grow in wisdom and love.

Our greatest hope is remembering and believing in the promise of John 3:16, “For God so loved the world He gave His only son, that whosoever believes in Him will never perish but have everlasting life.” 

We will never perish… we will simply live forever in His perfect HOPE and MYRACLES!