I’m reading a book (actually have about 7 or 8 going right now,) with the same title as the one I used for this post – its by David Crowder & Mike Hogan. I’ve been a-waiting for this book, on pre-order for about 3 months. Check it out here: Everybody Wants To Go…
Among other roles they fill, Crowder & Hogan are a part of the University Baptist Church in Waco; Crowder is the worship guy, & Hogan is the DJ; (I, by the way, am praying for a DJ or 4 for Hillside – & if you wonder why we might need a DJ, you haven’t heard any of the great music Crowder & Hogan put out in their day job as 2/5 of the David Crowder Band.) But that’s not why they wrote the book – it came on the heels of losing their friend & pastor in a freak water-baptism electrocution incident last October, which I blogged about HERE: Just scroll down to the bottom post entitled “?”
So, the book is about death. Death & dying. And the response of the living. Loss. Numbness. Shock. Crippling sadness. Grieving. How difficult it is to move on to normalcy, whatever that is, after the death of a loved one.
So far, so good (the book that is.) Especially interesting was reading how, because the accident occurred during a Sunday a.m. church service, that Sundays just haven’t been right ever since… A good book makes me introspective & self-evaluative; drives me to examine me & why I do what I do. I have been looking at my own responses to the death of those close to me. And also how I respond to others as they experience death, loss, tragedy, etc… I want to be able to help people navigate through the labyrinth that surrounds the mystery of death – & I know I can’t do this until/unless I can navigate it myself.
Sometimes I think that I’m doing ok with this process.
Other times, I just feel small & insignificant, marked by cares & worries, & the unknown. Death has marked me significantly, & my outlook on things. Not morbidly marked, but significantly changed by the suffering that follows on death’s coattails nonetheless. How?
I’ve been told I’m more compassionate than I was before (this may cause some of you who know me to wonder, “So, what kind of ogre WAS this Scoey?” But I digress.) I believe more. Jesus is real-er, in the quietly comforting & calmly confident kind of way. Like not feeling tempted to have to try to answer the inanswerable WHY questions, or feeling the need to offer cliches & Christian platitudes. A longing to be w/Jesus. And to be a source of comfort. And to bring peace & rest with my life, attitudes, words, & demeanor.
I don’t know what it is, but this thing of death is only grevious to me when I know the person could have cared less about God – living only as they wanted. For those whose hearts were tender to God’s influence and open to His purpose in their life, I think I’ve come to realize God’s amazing goodness and if its time to go, its time to go. I don’t want to overstay my welcome. I can’t wait to be welcomed into His amazing arms.
It’s not so much that I don’t want to die, it’s the slow, painful death I struggle with . . .