No More Goodbyes

Today marks 25 years since I said “goodbye” to my father. My mother, sister, and I stood by his bedside at the hospital. The doctors had tried numerous times to re-start his heart. In the process, they had broken his sternum, and each new effort was causing additional pain and putting his lungs in danger of being punctured by bone fragments. His time was running out. We were allowed to come in and say our last words to him, before his worn-out heart finally stopped for good. I held his hand one last time, whispered that I loved him and that I would help take care of Mom. I kissed his forehead, and said a prayer. Mom and my sister did the same.

Earlier this year, I had to say goodbye to Mom as well. My sister and I were with her, and had read her mail aloud to her, as she had fallen into a coma. I was preparing to return home. I said, “goodbye;” I held her hand, kissed her cheek and turned to my sister. When I turned back around, Mom was gone–her oxygen machine was still running, but her heart had stopped beating, and she was peaceful and still. In that moment, I became an orphan.

Death is part of the curse of a fallen world. God is the source of all Life. In a fallen world, we are cut off from our life-source. Our mortal bodies must taste death. It is the consequence of Sin– our sin, and the sins of others. Disease, violence, aging, disasters, grieving, work, abuse– all conspire to drain the life out of our bodies. Life is a gift– we can’t “earn” it, and we can’t “hold on” to it indefinitely. Nor can we hold on to the lives of others–even those we love. Some day, I will lose my sister. Or she will lose me. Some day, I will lose, or be lost to my husband, my brother, my step-children, mother-in-law, grandchildren, cousins, friends, and neighbors.

And, just like leaves on the trees later this month, all of us will grow old, be changed, and fall into decay. Some will fall gently; others will be torn away by the winds of war, or crime, or cancer, or accidents. Some will fall early; others will cling to life until the last moment, but all will eventually die. More goodbyes. More grieving. More death.

But. God is the author of Life, not Death.

Death is not the end for those who have trusted their souls to God. Our bodies must still taste death. We must still say, “Goodbye” to those we love on earth. But our goodbyes are tempered with the promise that the One who conquered Death did so for US. Because Jesus was willing to die and able to rise again, we will also live again. And THIS life will be untainted and eternal. No more goodbyes. No more grieving and separation. No more fear of an unknown future that includes death. No more waiting. No more living without a father. Our Heavenly Father will never leave, never die, never suffer the ravages of age or disease, never fall. In fact, Jesus never said “Goodbye” to His disciples– it wasn’t in His vocabulary! He said that He would “Go to prepare a place…(John 14:2-3)”, and He charged His disciples to “Go into all the world…(Mark 16:15)” But He never said, “Goodbye!”

I had to say, “Goodbye,” to my wonderful parents. And I have the joy of knowing that our “goodbyes” are temporary. That I will see them again, even as I will see my Heavenly Father someday. So, while today holds in it the sadness of watching my Dad suffer in his last minutes of earthly life, it also holds the promise of reunion and restoration. My Dad will never again have to suffer; neither will my Mom. My future probably holds a few more “goodbyes.” But it also holds “Hello!” “Welcome Home!” and “I’m so happy to see you again!”

I thank God for the lives of both my parents– for their testimonies of faith, for their good examples, and for the wisdom, laughter, and love they shared. And I thank God that their deaths were not the end of that love and joy. In fact, it will be even better to share someday what we could never have here on earth–eternal peace and freedom from grief and loss.

Twenty-five years seems like a long time, but it is a drop in the bucket of time, and nothing in light of eternity. That truth brings me great comfort as I face today. I hope you will be encouraged and comforted as well. Heaven is a place with no more “goodbyes.” And that radically changes the way I say “Goodbye” here on earth!