A MATTER OF LIFE and DEATH

It has gotten into me again, the serious consideration of life and death matters.

Just last night, my ate-friend was sharing to us her frightening almost-robbery story. She was riding aboard a van-for-hire which would bring her to her home city, and they were passing through an unlit and unpopulated mountain-road when some armed men stopped them for a supposed checkpoint, only to declare that they were after the passengers’ valuables and they are supposed to surrender them without complaining. Although my “Ate” was instrumental in the “postponement” of that almost-robbery (because of some unexpected but God-ordained circumstances), she still admitted becoming afraid at that moment. No, she was not afraid to die, but she was afraid for the people she was with that time, some of them were crying, fearing for their life, which were under the mercy of the armed men that time. From their story, death is indeed a cause for fear.

Then my father, who was one of the listeners when my “Ate” shared her traumatic experience, briefly shared his reflections with me on the shortness of life. He told me that just two days ago, the mother of my younger sister’s student passed away after being electrocuted in their home. She had just finished cleaning their pigpen when she removed the lightbulb from its socket. It used to be a usual routine, and so it was not supposed to end that way, but that time, they suspect the wire just had some “small” opening, and so the electric current had caught her wet hand, and killed her. From the words of my Tatay, “Mubo ra gyud ang kinabuhi sa tawo. Dili nato matag-an.” It brought me to thinking, yet again, how should I really value life, mine in particular, in this perspective?

Then as I was on my way to the office this morning, stopping shortly for our daily newspaper supply, there on the local headlines was an accident which immediately killed three people. It was a PUJ, which was top-loaded with mourners on their way to the cemetery for the funeral of another person. Apparently, the three people weren’t expecting that as they were to have their final mourning, they would also end up having to be mourned for that same day. It did not make me thankful that I was still alive, reading and reflecting upon their tragic experience. It made me sad that all of us would get to that final and inevitable end, and still, many are not prepared for it.

When I really sit down, be silent, and think about life and death matters, I am always serious. If life is that short, and so unexpected, how then should I live? I thought of the new-born babe I see everyday on my way to the office. A new life is starting again, I mused, but the poor boy doesn’t know that the world he’s going into is harsh. Lord-willing, he would grow up healthy, go to school, earn a degree, establish a career, build a family, get rich perhaps, grow old, then die, and that’s it! If that is all there is in there, how sad! How fruitless!

Yes, I feel sad that life could be that short, and yet, somehow, there is that deep yearning inside me, refusing to accept that life has no meaning, that longing that this is not all this is to life. And thankfully, though life is that fleeting, I’ve eventually learned that it does have a purpose, and I exist not for my own sake, but for Someone who assures me that the meaning could not be found in me, but in Him. He is my heavenly Father, God Almighty.

Each time I mull over matters of life and death, it humbles me first of all to be reminded that I am not indispensable, and that anytime, God, who created and owned me, can just take me away. But it also uplifts me to know that when I gave my life to Him, I am actually receiving it back in full. I call myself “His servant” at times, because I found my meaning in being able to serve Him. But He values me, loves me, and accepts me just for who I am, even going beyond that of not calling me “servant”, but “His child”. And I believe that is the essence of every existence, to not live it for yourself, but to spend it for Someone who finds value in you. God has been that for me, and I know, even for every creation of His as well, every man and woman who is seeking to find fulfillment in this short-lived world. I don’t know how it happens, but I would like to see it the way Augustine of Hippo prayed: “Thou madest me for Thyself, and my heart is restless until it repose in Thee.”

Life and death matters are one of the beautiful things to talk about, especially if you’re living it meaningfully, but only with the Lord God can it take place. There, I’ve finally said it.

“Oh Lord my God, let me speak Your words with my mouth, give me Your thoughts, let me feel with your heart, for that is who I am, and who I will be.” :)