It would be high class illusion, a kind of grenade hidden under our skin if we feel that we would never die. Death an inevitable reality in which all man must face in this world (except for supernatural reasons known to God, maybe some may not) is a living encounter we all share, it’s a common thing that binds all of us, it’s not a divide that’s meant for a particular class, religion, race or language. No! It’s for all of us and it is necessary we are prepared for it everyday of our breath.
It may come to us in different forms, countless ways or unimaginable scenarios; I heard recently of a young man that slumped and died while jogging on an early morning and that was it, his life submitted to the thorns of Death (and there are worst cases than that, those you are aware of yourself) So, Death is not a joke. It’s not some comedian that prepares a laugh for our gestures. It’s a good tragedy that must fill our years with thoughts about our end and on the other hand, help sharpen that very thoughts to give the most of ourselves all the time, and whenever it finds need of it because our time is short. This is the truth, and we must not shy from this.
No matter how long you may think you would live or have lived, it would end in a twinkle of an eye. In this wise, it would be utter foolishness to live as though one owns the earth, many more as if the earth is a final place of inhabitance. That would be a slap on our sense of reason and the beauty of which our heart yearn, the infinite.
It would also be a waste of efforts, time, money and resources in which God created us to enjoy, if at the last hour when we face our ultimate sole of existence, our thoughts and actions is soiled with faults and trenches of earthly mud on the bent knees of death. It would be a fatal wound, a serious madness which no doctor can find medication to relieve us from.
This is not in any way to dignify death, well, I think it has its own respect, by making us humble in its face, admitting our nothingness, and steadily lifting our gaze to what’s important (it seems most of us still don’t get this or don’t like the idea of it, making room for cloudiness of thoughts in bitter forgetfulness). Death is real as the next minute that we live. It is so real than the next minute you read my following words, but whoever has submitted his will, thoughts and being to love, would find not another burden of death, well, a finer death left with no impulse of this world, placed in the birth of eternal warmth.
That love, that Christian hope is the perfection of anything that we would ever behold. That taste should make us live for death, sing for death and make death our very lines of seeing the eyes of our Creator in the end.
Death is real, it is random, and doesn’t succumb to the wit and predictability of man; it’s therefore essential and blissful we live the days of our lives in full expectant of it, so that we would be filled with confidence and not so much in chaos when we are met with its mighty or sometimes silent kiss.
MO.
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