I sometimes seem to live my life as if those around me are going to be here forever, even if they are not young anymore. Of course they will be there to talk to, I think. Of course we can do this or that together. Then the day comes when they are not there any longer and I am shocked. How can this be?
In my more rational moments, I know this is not how things work. Our time on earth is finite, however much we may try to stave off that day. People become ill and cannot be cured. Terrible disasters occur, ending even young lives, while those of us who are left become older and frailer. Yet it can still be hard to accept another’s death, whatever age they are. They were here. They were real. They were alive—and now they are no longer.
This past week, we heard of the deaths of two older friends. The first was a gentleman in his nineties who always impressed us with his zest for life and his deep commitment to God and his church. Even until the last year or two, he would bake trays of cakes for youth and outreach events at church or for the spring fair in the village where we live. He also loved writing and art and singing—he was an all-round creative person. Right now, I believe he will be rejoicing in heaven in the perfect presence of his Creator God, which is wonderful. Yet it seemed to us as if this larger-than-life person would always be here.
The second person was our lovely neighbour, Ruth, who used to live in the unit opposite us, until moving into aged care. She was in her eighties and had been unwell for some years, yet each day when she could, she would sit on her little stool, digging in her garden and caring for each plant and flower. She was a writer too—such an intelligent, interesting person. But above all, she loved God wholeheartedly and served in the Salvation Army all her life. We were still in the process of moving into our unit when she told me she had been praying for us for some time. And, on occasions, she would come to our door, holding some beans or tomatoes or other produce from her garden, and tell me they were a gift to us as ‘first fruits’ from her harvest. It is wonderful to think that, right now, she too is completely whole again in God’s presence. She was a faithful soldier all her life—and now she has marched right on into heaven.
This news of the passing of these two faithful soldiers has made me look at my own life again. There is no doubt both loved God with all their hearts. They served God and others their whole lives and were ready to meet their Lord. In my mind, I can hear each of them saying, along with the Apostle Paul, not in any boasting way but as mere statements of fact:
I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. 2 Timothy 4:7
Whenever my turn comes, I want to be able to say that too, with humility but also with deep certainty, don’t you?
Who would have thought? Way back in July 2009, I started my personal blog journey, wondering whether I would continue to have enough things to write about. Yet here I am, five hundred blogs later, still finding something each week to share with others. Also during this time, I have written over ninety blogs for various Christian author groups, sharing lessons from my writing journey and encouraging other authors. Phew!
Recently, my sister and brother-in-law arrived from interstate for a visit and brought with them my faithful, old, bright yellow shopping trolley I purchased around thirty-eight years ago! At that time, we lived on the other side of Sydney, just a few doors from very busy King Georges Road. And across that busy road was our local supermarket. It was far too close to drive to, yet too far away to carry all those bags of groceries back home. So that bright yellow shopping trolley came in very handy during the time we lived there.
Jo-Anne Berthelsen's Blog 