Today I attended a funeral for a man
who was so very dear to so very many. His death came as no surprise,
because he was 91 and his health had been failing, but that isn't
what made today easier. Today was easier – joyful, even – because
right now this man is face-to-face with his Savior, and, in the words
of my pastor, “more alive than he has ever been.”
As I left the church and started my
drive home, I was so caught up in my audiobook that I almost didn't
see it. Looking back, I am actually rather annoyed with myself that
it took me so long to notice it. It wasn't something shocking, it
wasn't something out of the ordinary. In fact, that is probably why I
didn't see it – it was hiding behind its ordinariness.
It wasn't an oncoming car I didn't see.
It wasn't something or someone in the road I nearly missed. It was
simple beauty. Simple, ordinary, everyday beauty. For some
reason unbeknownst to me, God chose to make this day – this July
day in Ohio – beautiful. The writer in me wants to call it
extraordinarily beautiful,
but that would do it a disservice. It was simply beautiful.
The
sun was shining high in the sky, and had chased away every cloud from
the horizon. It was a balmy 73 degrees – the right temperature for
driving with windows rolled down. There were birds, but no
mosquitoes. There was green and bright blue. It was simply beautiful.
So I
decided to roll down my window and listen to some tunes. I entered my “Favs” playlist and
hit “Shuffle.” Then my iPod played the perfect song - “It's Good
to Be Alive” by Jason Gray. The chorus goes like this:
“I
wanna live like there's no tomorrow,
Love
like I'm on borrowed time.
It's
good to be alive.”
Immediate
car-dancing and shout-singing commenced. The song was on repeat for
about 20 minutes, so I sang and sang and sang about how good it is to
be alive.
Then I
started thinking about the first time I'd heard this song. It came on
the radio many months ago and absolutely tore me up. I was driving
then, too, and had slowly started crying. Those were not the same
tears that came to my eyes today when I realized how good it is to be
alive. They were tears of pain and disbelief – because I was thoroughly convinced that it could not possibly be good for me to be alive.
I
don't remember what pain I was enduring at that moment, but I do know
it was intense. Even in moments without pain, rare though they may be
in this world, I have always felt an intense craving for my Final
Destination. My heart has long echoed Paul's sentiments, “to live
is Christ and to die is gain” (Phil 1:21). So how could this song
possibly be true for me?
God
has brought me through an immense amount of personal growth since
that day. He has brought the words of this song alive and shown me
that they are, indeed, true. I
do not crave my Final Destination any less, but I do intend, in the
meantime, to live. I intend to “live like there's no tomorrow and
love like I'm on borrowed time.” I intend to use what breath I have
left to praise the Creator for the beauty of His creation. And I
intend to arrive Home breathless and exhausted from running the whole
length of the expanse between here and there, no matter how long it
may be.
It is, indeed, good to be alive. Thank you, Dale, for living out this truth every
day. I envy you, sir, for your race is finished, and mine has only
just begun.
