going home.

I still remember the first time I experienced death. I was 4  years old and my memory of it is very vague. One minute my great grandfather was there and the next thing I knew I found myself in a cemetery beside my grieving family. I don't remember much from his funeral. I remember the 21 gunshots and the airmen that handed my great grandma a folded up flag. And I remember my mother hysterically crying as friends and family paid  their respects to one of the Air Force' greatest. The older I got the more real death became. I was raised believing in life after death, in heaven and hell. Death is a painful part of life no doubt. But there is a hope children of God have that makes death just a little bit easier. I have been to countless funerals and memorial services, and let me tell you the difference between one for a saved individual and one for an unsaved individual is drastic. Death is a very real and very tragic thing no matter the circumstance. The hope Christ brings doesn't completely remove the sting of death, something our fragile hearts weren't meant to feel. As death came through the fall of man. It's a touchy and uncomfortable topic for most people and rightfully so, it's an horrendous thing to face. I often think about the fragility of life and the reality that no one is promised tomorrow. I've thought a lot this week about life and death, through it all I'm so thankful to have my hope anchored in Christ. I'm thankful that His love is stronger than death. I'm thankful Jesus conquered the finality of the grave. And I'm thankful that no matter how painful things are, I'm simply going home.