Introducing Death

In this interview, Death has agreed to attempt honesty in his answers. As you read, be skeptical when considering his responses. Deception is part of his modus operandi, and as always, thinking while reading is required. 

Here we go 

Me: Good Morning Death

Death: Is it?

Me: Okay, I see we are starting right in, without formalities

Death: You humans (snicker)

Me: We humans what?

Death: This is a grave matter (lip curls in destain and mockery), and you want to be polite

Me: No need to be aggressive

Death: Hahaha, you are hilarious

Me: What's so funny?

Death: How would you describe me then, little human?

Me: I don't know... people go to a better place once they die. They rest in peace, and get reunited with their loved ones, and pets

Death: Awe, yes, that

Me: That?

Death: RIP, better place, loved ones, pets. Delightful, simply delightful

Me: I'm glad you are confirming what I am saying (seems Death is agreeing but I feel dis ease and slightly shaken as we continue. I decide to share a little more.)

Me: Yes well, we humans gather for a Celebration of Life when someone dies. We throw a party in remembrance of them

Death: Yes (grin)

Me: So you think these send offs are a good thing?

Death: They are exactly what I want them to be

Me: What do you mean? What do you want them to be?

Death stares me in the eye, minus blinking. A shiver travels from my tailbone up to the base of my neck, and I feel my knees quivering. I wait for what seems an eternity for his answer. Foreboding settles into my being. Finally, he states:

Death: Denial

Me: Denial? (I am confused) 

Me: What is being denied?

Death: Me (his face distorts into a lopsided grin, and I can't help feeling an urge to bolt, get far away from him, from it, from this sense that I cannot escape as long as he sits so close by)

Death waits but I am tongue tied while his glare bores into my soul. What is he waiting for, I wonder? I start to panic, unable to move. My mind is jabbled with racing thoughts. The word scrabble in my head prevent the forming of sentences; I cannot grasp and hold a single thought, let alone verbalize.

My heart is racing, my palms are sweating. I am no longer confident in my questioning Death, and I realize I have gotten in over my head. I cannot hold his gaze and feel skewed to my seat, pinned in place.

Death: You know, you don't have to be so uncomfortable with me (Death speaks and I am startled out of my stupor, and somehow soothed with the sound of his silky voice. I swallow, and tentatively consider asking, What do you mean?) 

After a time, and a time and a half, I muster some courage, and inquire:

Me: Can you say more please? (Death responds immediately)

Death: I am a relief in times of trouble. I am a go to, something you can count on to take away the pain (his eyes have become slits; the corners of his mouth curled into crescents) 

He continues:

Death: I can help you, if you want

Me: Help me? How?

Death: When things get tough. You know, like the time your father died and the world went grey? Why, you could decide at any time you like, to join him. I can help you with that

Me: I am not sure what you are suggesting?

Death: Surely, you will live to see your father again. You could see him sooner if you like. You could see him today

Panic sets in as I realize the direction Death is wanting to take me. Shaking my head, I deny Death. In my mind I am screaming NOOOO, NOOOO, I will not do your bidding, take your suggestions, follow your wicked hints to fall into an early grave. He is still sitting so close by. I can no longer stomach his company. What he is saying is shrill and gashes my soul. 

Suicide? To be with my father? Can Death really promise me this? Does he have the ability to deliver? Is this what I believe? Is this what he wants me to believe?

Without planning, my eyes close tightly to block out his face. My hands cup and cover my ears to stop them up from hearing his voice. My knees, calves and ankles touch, drawn tightly together, as my upper body curls slightly into the beginning stages of becoming a ball, protecting my heart and innards from his verbal assault on my mind and spirit. Death is the enemy, and I cannot stand him and what he wants for me. 

Silence. The sound is deafening. The still is somehow soporific.

I begin to unfurl, uncovering my ears whilst opening my eyes. Will Death still be there, waiting for me? 

Dear reader, is Death, waiting for you?

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Death is a thief, and must be taken seriously, as a killer, a murderer, a snuffer of life. As of late, platitudes have replaced deep grieving when someone dies suddenly, unexpectedly, oddly...

There is no RIP, dear one, if someone dies after a life of disobedience to God. There is no such thing as happy ever heavenly after, for those that do not know the living God. A person that passes from this world into the next, is not frolicking in fields with furry friends, or meandering flower filled meadows with relatives of old. Death does not introduce them to all knowing consciousness once their body expires and their soul is plucked from the carcass...

If a person dies without Christ as their Saviour and King, they will not be in His presence upon their departure from this plain. They will, go somewhere, but not to Him. 

You may wonder at my confidence, how I came to be clear on this grave matter (pun intended). The Bible, dear reader, The Bible and reading with eyes of faith, a mind keen to comprehend, and a hope that trusts in the Creator, and not in what the world has to fleetingly offer and quickly rescind. 

You and I will one day die, but we are not to take our lives into our own hands or entrust it to others. To plan or plot our own expiry date, is to steal life away, to commit murder of self, and to deeply deny God His place as our soul/sole life provider.

Do you trust Him with your life? Will you trust Him to take care of you in your after life, the one you will transfer into once you take your last earthly breath? 

I hope so 

I hope to one day see you in heaven, where Jesus reigns and rules supreme, and love is so abundant that we could all bust wide open with joy confetti shooting out of us in all directions 

That, is my hope

God has the final say Psalm 9:7-12:

But the LORD shall endure for ever: he hath prepared his throne for judgement. And he shall judge the world in righteousness, he shall minister judgment to the people in uprightness. The LORD also will be a refuge for the oppressed, a refuge in times of trouble. And they that know thy name will put their trust in thee: for thou, LORD, hast not forsaken them that seek thee. 

Sing praises to the LORD, which dwelleth in Zion: declare among the people his doings. When he maketh inquisition for blood, he remembereth them: he forgetteth not the cry of the humble.