Why do we live upon this earth with habitual pretentiousness that we will never die; that we are each the exception to this most dominant rule? Yes, we know it's coming; but it's always out there sort of in a delay mode so to speak. This is unfortunate.
I don't mean it's unfortunate that we aren't gloomy and fearful. Rahter, I mean that we are bull-headed, obstinate, and stubborn about the way we treat others. Wouldn't impending death significantly alter the way we have slouched into trends of hating and despising others around? Shouldn't the reminder that we are temporary shake our permissiveness of allowing ourselves to treat others with rudeness and religious score-keeping?
How can we have had it with with others whom we have had little dealings when we put up, by comparison, with the infractious nature of the introspective self? We are a mess. Not a few. Not most. Every person.
For decades I've watched death ravage our people. There is something cleansing to inner man as we approach finality's conclusive announcement that this friend of ours, too, has passed. Why can't we recognize the importance of focusing upon the important truths of people the first 99% of one's life? Why do the disappointments and betrayals have our permission to take center stage, day in and day out, when toward the end we will work to find healing from such deep injury?
We are bigger than this! We are designed (well, redesigned at conversion) for a new kind of wholeness that wastes not one crumb of life by begrudging, jealousy, nor irritation toward anyone else. We don't have time for it. And, furthermore, we don't really mean it. Hating another is not who we really are.
Impending death, and then the actuality of it, screams for exchanges of forgiveness and mercy from all parties. Sure, there are many (I'd guess millions many) who don't believe they can forgive another or ever want to do so. Yet, when the end comes rushing in, I'm convinced that leaning face to face into Him melts every angst we had so committed to ourselves to harbor against another.
That element of death...should awaken us to what really matters. Relationships restored are far more important than boundary lines, hurt feelings, blatant betrayals, and worst failures. Mercy transforms all at the end. Why not experience it in the beginning and middle as well?
(And yes, rather is misspelled in line four. I put it there to signal that every day is accompanied by mistakes; our mistakes. Even so, let us remain convinced that we can still get the message of hope regardless of glitches that continue to arise.)