Easter, April 12

Do you remember being afraid of death? I used to run away from thinking about it--I'd do anything to avoid letting my mind wander to the topic. And then I gave my life to Jesus, and the fear just melted away. How amazing!

I was reminded of that old, gnawing fear today at our Easter service. We were singing the third verse of "Because He Lives," which goes like this: "And then one day I'll cross that river, I'll fight life's final war with pain. And then as death gives way to victory, I'll see the lights of glory and I'll know he lives."

And suddenly, I remembered. The nights lying alone in bed, distractions and defenses of the day reduced to nothing, desperately trying to avoid the thoughts--the times, in broad daylight, when something random would remind me of death and I'd struggle to find a different topic, to change the course of my mental ramblings. And never being able, ultimately, to escape.

From June 10, 1970 to this day I've never had another thought like those. I've thought of death, of course, particularly with the two brain tumors, and what it would do to my family, and I've even thought some long thoughts about what I might have to offer Christ, but not once have I ever worried about my own destiny. In fact, in the couple of years preceding my surgery in 1987, I had not one, but two dreams about death. And in both, with death a split-second away, I felt like a baby in a mother's arms. Again--amazing.

And as we sang, I started to cry.

Sometimes it's good to remember from where you've come.