“Death was a foreigner until I watched my dad wither away. As cancer shaved his frame to the bone, and the space between breaths gained greater distance, my worst enemy seemed to dance and destroy all at the very same time.
I wanted death gone, but instead, my dad was the one to leave. I was so shattered by his passing that I refused to watch the gurney roll out of the house. The reaper may well have taken my father from me, but I would not offer him the satisfaction of my gaze. I would not look as the mortuary van drove away in the cover of midnight darkness.
It was not until I became a follower of Christ that my perspective on death changed, and I came to understand it as something more than an instrument of destruction. In Christ, death is no doomsday — it’s a gateway.”