"Finding Life in the Terminal of Death"

Sometimes we fail to realize how transitory life is and how permanent death is. If that statement causes you to flinch, don’t think of yourself as unusual. We are so accustomed to life as we see it, we forget that there is a life we don’t see. It’s commonly called death. We fear it. But we need not, for it’s the life we live after the life we see. We are in a very real sense in the land of the dying traveling to the land of the living.

I thought about that just the other day. I took my wife, Lori, to the airport. Her grandmother, Granny Betty, had died, and Lori was flying back to the funeral. I had decided, with some reservation, to stay home, watch after our four teenagers, and minister to our own church flock.

I had checked her baggage on the plane, and walked her to the gate. We said our teary good-byes, and I walked as far as I could to the security check-in. We still feel like newlyweds; we’ve been married now for a year and a half. And so, we lingered. We didn’t want to part. 9/11 prevents us from walking to the gate.

I carefully watched as she passed through security. I would lose her, and then catch a glimpse of her again and again.

Once through security, I waved again, and she waved back, passing her hand from her lips to me. It was her way of saying, “I love you.” I returned with the same “words” of love. Then I stood on my tiptoes as she walked farther and farther toward the gate. She turned one more time, and I waved real big this time, making sure she saw my hand, and the love I held up for her to see.

Then, try as I may to keep my eye on her, she finally disappeared down that long corridor we call a terminal.

Now, that word “terminal” got me to thinking. Life is terminal, isn’t it? Have you ever known anyone to escape the reality of death? No, as a matter of fact, I haven’t. And neither have you. Life ends.

But life begins again, too. It does. It really does.

You see, just as I watched my wife disappear from my sight as she walked down the terminal, she yet lived. She just passed from my purview. She was still alive. She did in fact “take flight.” Literally, she did fly.

Do you see where I’m going with this? We are all in this life moving toward this place we call death.

But we who are in Jesus Christ have this wonderful assurance. We have life in him. That means we live because he lives.

Just as I watched my loved one, my wife, walk “out of sight,” so in death we see our loved ones pass from our sight. Yet, because of Jesus Christ, they are simply passing through the terminal called “death.” It’s real. It’s not real. It’s only an illusion. They are still there. We just can’t see them.

The truth is, we are only separated by this substance we call time. It descends on us in a shroud of darkness, blinding us from seeing those who have passed through its corridor. But time is relative. Eternity is ever-present and yet lasts forever. It’s here, and we wait to experience it “out there.” It holds us back yet pulls us forward.

One thing is certain. In Jesus Christ we will be reunited. “For God in all his fullness was pleased to live in Christ, and through him God reconciled everything to himself.” (Colossians 1:19-20) Part of that reconciliation will be the reunion with our loved ones in Christ. “Mark my words,” Jesus said when he ate his last meal with the disciples, “I will not drink wine again until the day I drink it new with you in my Father’s Kingdom.” (Matthew 26:29)

Here’s what I planned to do: I would pick up my wife at the airport, greet her as she emerged from the terminal, welcome her back, and then take her out to eat. We would have a joyous reunion. We would celebrate.

And one day, Granny Betty, and the rest will come to greet us, or we will go there to greet them, and it will be a glad reunion, as we are reunited in that terminal called “life.” Jesus did say it best when he said he would not drink from the fruit of the vine until he drank with them in the kingdom to come. And so it will be with us, my friend, when we see them get off that plane. Or, will they see us getting off the plane? All I know for sure it that Jesus will be there, and our return flight is secure in his hands.