Beautiful Death

Leaves are dying, crimson, red,

Orange and yellow, bright instead

of green, old green, the colour true

that speaks of life in every hue.

There, in the midst of crimson gold

We see death bring out beauty bold.

Dying factories, shutting down

Lacing on their final crown.

Leaving glory in their wake

Leaves drift down and make their grave.

 

    These glorious fall days are reviving the spirit of poetry within me and I chanced to tap a couple lines into the notepad of my cellular mobile device. (Yes that's what we dubbed it a couple years ago which in plain English means cellphone.) Indeed, 'tis almost a pity how much that wretched sound vibrator gets used these days, yet on the other hand it is quite a useful and brilliant object to have on hand when quick access to a writing tablet is in demand. I penned these lines after a sequence of events that led me to thinking. That age old type of pondering of the brain that turns a subject round and round, adds slight trifles to it, makes a couple adjustments and Voila! We have a new blog post that must be shared.

    I've been thinking about death. The sometimes slow, sometimes quick procedure that ends this thing we call life. But besides the death that leads to a cemetery, I've been pondering death IN life. In fact, before I wrote the lines above, I wrote a shorter version that went like this:

               Leaves are dying, crimson, gold,

              Girding colours, turning bold.

              Could it be that we must die?

              Our wretched selves to crucify?

              Choosing truth o'er selfish things,

              Moving on to nobler things?

              Could it be that when we die,

              We raise the cross of Christ up high?

    I can't get it out of my mind. This thing called dying to self and rising to NEW LIFE in CHRIST. I remember listening to a CD a few years ago and they sang a song about dying to self. I remember thinking, "What do they mean?" I didn't get it. It seemed like a foggy sort of concept to my young inexperienced and uninformed brain. Now there is a part of me that is beginning to understand it more and more as I walk the Christian road up and down, around bends, through rain, in sun and deserts, through jungles, across tiny bridges spanning ravines, beside quiet lakes, and even around cacti. You see, the Christian life is not all easy or beautiful. In fact, parts of it are quite the opposite. Sometimes they hurt. A LOT. Sometimes they make no sense. AT ALL. Sometimes people are simply frustrating or cruel. Life looks unfair and unjust. Why, if we're children of the King do we suffer? Why doesn't He just heal me or take away my problems? Why doesn't He convict the prodigal sons, or change the stone-cold husband's heart?  We kick and scream and lament at our lot in life. We begin to question our Maker. We fuss and fume and sometimes quietly simmer. 

    But what if? What if North American Christians would begin to embrace pain instead of running from it. What if we would begin to see trials or hard things as gifts from God to mold us into His character and train us for kingdom combat? What if we would begin to thank and ask Him to help us trust and love and give inspite of pain? What if we would truly look at the agony our Saviour endured and begin to count it all joy to fellowship with Him in suffering?

    Anyone could see He had completely lost any good reputation as He hung on the unforgiving Roman cross with nails sticking through His wrists and sharp thorns gorging into His skull. Nobody would have thought that He came straight from the throne of God when he hung there a shrivelled, bleeding, bruised, corpse. Why do we think we deserve less? Soldiers of all nations count it a great honour to fight and die for their countries. Should we not swell with joy at the thought of laying our lives down for the King of Kings? Soldiers for the world's countries know they will go through boot camp. They know they might face death. They know they'll be far from comfortable. They know they'll have to help their teammates in combat. They know they'll go hungry sometimes. They know they'll leave family behind. But they go anyway. Why? WHY? The simple answer is: They care for and love their country and the people in it. Really, that sounds a lot like the reason a certain Son of God left a heavenly throne and descended to a cursed human world to give His life.

    If He gave His all, should we not join Him? If He endured chastening as a Son of God, should we not glory in tribulations? 

    "Consider it all joy, my brothers and sisters, when you encounter various trials. Knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance. And let endurance have its perfect result, so that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing." James 1:2-4 NASB1995