June 2 When Death is an Honor

I Kings 14:12-13 When you set foot in your city, the boy will die...He is the only one belonging to Jereboam who will be buried, because he is the only one in the house of Jereboam in whom the LORD, the God of Israel, has found anything good.

There is so much in this passage: a parent will lose a child, a good child, the only who is good, a child will die....each one of these thoughts could be elaborated on, and I will probably wander around through them.

First, there is the nightmare of losing a child - a nightmare for the parent, not the child. A pain so great there are no words to describe it has torn its way into the life and body of the parent. A gaping wound wrenches that parent into nightmarish wakefulness each day and releases him only as exhaustion brings on sleep at the end of the day. No parent can find any justice, and rectitude in the death of a child; it is not natural for a child to precede the parent in death. The loss of a child is not only the loss of a child, at whatever age, he or she is, but it is the loss of all the joys that child would bring - all of the firsts, the shared laughter and memories, the delight of watching the child grow and mature, the delight of seeing that child have a child. Instead of colorful pages in an album of life, there are only dark pages, a void on a background of grave-clothes....a reality for those who have no hope of anything more.

Then I think of Jereboam knowing he is going to lose the "good" child. And that his own sin is responsible for this child's death. Though the others will die, this child is a special child, and Jereboam must live through this loss, see this loss.

Finally I think about perspective and death. I guess perspective continues to be much on my mind. When someone dies, especially a believer, we name it tragedy, forgetting to add that the tragedy is ours, not the person gone. I think of Jereboam's child; his death was such a blessing for him. He was freed from the nightmare that was to follow in his family. My brother, who died just before his fifth birthday, in my father's own words, would never be sick again, would never experience pain again, would never endure the temptations that follow a boy or the sickness and loss of our parents. He was spared all of that.

I think of countless believing acquaintances and friends and relatives who passed into eternity in the last ten years and the void left by their home-going - pain for us, but a pain tempered by the confidence we have of where they are. These loved ones have been spared by the natural disasters of this twenty-first century, spared of further physical and emotional pain, spared even of further temptation. They are present with the Lord. What bliss!!! And what a respite for us! to know how much better life is for them now. I know we miss them, that we experience loss, but we can also choose a right perspective. Instead of rehearsing how great is our loss, we can rejoice in the place of our loved one. After all, isn't that what love is - wanting the good and the happiness of the loved one over our own?