Dealing with Death

I just love running. One of my reasons (and I am not saying that it is the most important reason) is that it keeps me healthy. It is like my insurance policy against heart attack. And even as I write it, there is this feeling, this knowing, that I am fooling myself. It is like feeling financially secure until you lose your job or the stock market crashes or whatever. Or like feeling safe in your marriage until your spouse steps over the line.

We try to anchor our lives to something solid. We build high fences, buy pepper spray for our daughters, sign up with the security company, and yet fear for our families. We try to anchor our finances in fixed property and hope that no earthquake will destroy it. We get degrees and diplomas, which becomes irrelevant very quickly as technology changes. We drink supplements and run marathons and try to hold on to youth as long as possible, yet we get sick or depressed or worse.

We cannot take anything with us. Not our money, our health or our families.

I may be able to keep on running until I die.

I may remain safe and prosperous until I die.

I may be pretty secure and have a fantastic quality of life until I die.

But I will die.

So, with creeping anxiety, I acknowledge the unfortunate truth that the writer of the book Ecclesiastes in the Bible was correct:

“Meaningless! Meaningless! Utterly meaningless! Everything is meaningless. I have seen all the things that are done under the sun, all of them are meaningless, a chasing after the wind.”

Yet, in the same Bible, we also read of Someone who died but rose up to life — eternal life. And through Him, there is grace and hope of resurrection! No, inevitable resurrection.

“This grace was given us in Christ Jesus before the beginning of time, but it has now been revealed through the appearing of our Savior, Christ Jesus, who has destroyed death and has brought life and immortality to light through the gospel.” (2 Tim. 1:9–10)

“Where, O death, is your victory?

Where, O death, is your sting?” (1 Cor. 15:55)

So now I am running with my friend, the resurrected Jesus, every day. Yeah, I will die one day, but not to nothingness or hopelessness, but to run some more on some other trails with Him. So I know that security here where we are is a joke. Running may postpone the inevitable but not prevent it. There is nothing fixed to tie our anchor to. But my anchor is secure in the One who got up out of that grave and promised that I will be with Him forever.