October 16th

October 16th, a Wednesday evening. I had read on facebook that a plane heading from the capital to the South had crashed, killing all 49 on board. I am ashamed to say that it was just another news item, something I registered in the passing, thinking I'd get back to it later. Which I did, but in unexpected ways. It wasn't until it became apparent that someone I actually knew had been on that plane that the reality of it all sank in.
It took many days to find all the parts of the plane, to pull the bodies out of the river, to identify the victims. It still seems so surreal that this young couple is gone. And yet it really happened. And we are left behind, dealing with the shock and pain and sadness while they have moved on ahead of us into glory and light and goodness and neverending beauty and contentment and bliss.

Death remains a mystery, yet constant companion. I have seen joy and sorrow mingle as we celebrate a life well lived and reminisce about favorite moments with those who have passed away. We are shocked and left speechless when death happens suddenly and unexpectedly. I think of my grandfather, who was ready to die and yet held on to life for much longer than I would have thought. Why do we fight death? Or fight to live? Especially when we know what is waiting for us?

In the past few years there have been many goodbyes. I said goodbye to my grandfather. Others said goodbye to their father. Some had to say the dreadful goodbye to a baby - one born with severe deformities, one born still after a car accident which in itself remains unexplained. A former colleague and teammate died at age 22 after battling an illness.

Though death comes as a welcome relief to some it still leaves us grieving. Weeping for those that have moved on ahead of us. We weep for moments we are deprived of. Seeing a child grow up. Holding grandbabies. Saying one last 'I love you'.

We weep and fight and pray for life because life is a gift. God breathed on Adam and gave him the breath of life. God formed us and knit us together in our mother's womb. He gives us this life, this day, as a gift.

And life is made up of thin places. Places where we can catch a glimpse of eternity. And before we know it, maybe unexpectedly, that veil will rip apart and we will see clearly. Will live as God had intended from the beginning. But till then we are on this side of eternity. And grieve. And weep. And have to learn to let go. Because we will never understand the 'why'.

The plane crash reminded me of this gift of today. It made clear to me that all I have is now. And in the blink of an eye, in an instant this life here can be over. What will I do with what is given me?

Receive it graciously. Savor the moment - the good and the bad, the lighthearted and challenging. Enjoy - good food, good company, good books. Notice the beauty. Create beauty. Be present and mindful in the moment. Never hold back on hugs and 'I love yous'. Be mindful of your 'last words'. Take risks and don't shrink back from the new and different. Seize opportunities as they arise, even if they might be 'too expensive'. Drink good coffee and not settle for second best. Learn not to look back with regret but know that God is the Redeemer of all. Live today, not yesterday or tomorrow. Laugh daily and strive to be joyful in all. Seek to serve others and make their day a happy one. Smile. Show compassion to others and yourself. Don't hold a grudge but be quick to forgive and seek forgiveness. Celebrate the ordinary with lots of chocolate cake. And most of all love. Love freely and deeply but with open hands. Because in an instant the veil can tear and we might move through the thin place to the other side. With my grandfather's last words to me: 'Until we meet again.'