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Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind... Romans 12:2

Turning From the Mirror

by Jason Ewert

I wasn't ready to say goodbye.

There is a lot of truth in that simple statement. I do not believe there is a single person who would not wish to be with a lost loved one once more. One last hug, one last touch, one last word.

We gain a deeper understanding of death when it stares us in the face and launches into its evil laugh. I learned that lesson that first night in this new world of death—the night when we began to say goodbye to Grandpa.

None of us really knew what to say that night. What do you tell the dying? You can't wish them a good death, but neither can you wish them a good life. The easiest thing to do is let silence speak a thousand words, and so that is what I did. But when it was time to leave the walls crumbled, and for the first time that I can remember, I really hugged my grandpa. We clung to each other and let our heartbeats say all that needed to be said. It was over all too soon, but that feeling will remain with me until I, like Grandpa, hug those I love goodbye.

"I wasn't ready to say goodbye."

A dirty war accompanies those words, a war that threatens to push me over the brink. I follow the path of my father Jacob who struggled with God and, when he could not win, sought for an answer he would never, could never receive.

I want to accept God's timing. Who am I, after all, to question the Author of all time and history? I cannot claim the righteousness of Job, the wisdom of Solomon, or the heart of David, so it seems best for me to be silent and hold my peace.

But the struggle continues in my mind, and I wrestle with the inescapable. Oh, that I may receive just a hint of an answer, some little peace that may soothe my spirit and wash away these unshed tears that stain my soul.

"I wasn't ready to say goodbye."

Memories flow like Noah's rain, reminding me of precious moments and unforgettable lessons.

I remember some of the things Grandpa did for me. One late Monday night he picked me up from the airport. I was a tired and bedraggled boy returning from Dallas, and there was no face so welcome as that of Grandpa's. We didn't say much on the drive back home, but words were, again, unnecessary. The comfort of the streetlights and the wonder of the night spoke volumes, and I was happy just to know that he was there.

But now he isn't, and I miss him. I miss him like the sky will one day miss the moon and the sun and know that its time will soon be up.

"I wasn't ready to say goodbye."

It is astounding how much you learn after someone dies. Things that Grandpa taught me come back to my mind day by day, serving as poignant reminders to help me avoid the pits that abound in life. As I reflect on my memories, I learn from his example and am made wiser. ‘Tis a cruel twist of providence that death teaches us lessons that life could never explain.

But is death merely a teacher? Is it more? Or is it, perhaps, less?

I didn't want to see Grandpa's body after he died, but when I arrived at the church where the viewing was held, something inexplicably drew me inside the sanctuary until I was standing two feet away from the coffin and looking straight at his face. It was then that the battle ended.

Silently, I stood there and allowed that picture to soak into my mind and plant itself there, because I never wanted to forget it. There was no longer any pain, sin, or shame in his face. Instead there was a smile of glory and of peace, a smile that spoke of greater things than I could comprehend.

After that night, I couldn't fight anymore: I had learned the truth about death. Death is not a tragic ending, but a beautiful beginning. For those who have been called according to faith, death is no longer a vengeful king but a helpless pawn. Once you have seen the light of faith, you realize that death is simply one of many tools in the Father's hands. It is the tool that the Son used to restore the world, and it is the door through which we must pass to rise from shame to glory. Death, like the rest of God's enemies, has bowed the knee, and one day, like the rest, it will crumble.

"I wasn't ready to say goodbye."

I still miss Grandpa a lot. I think of him when I'm driving, when I'm walking, when I'm sitting in church, when I'm watching a sunset. Even now, I'm not ready to say goodbye, because I no longer need to.

I'm just waiting to say, "Hi."

Return to Volume 9, Number 2.