Death…
Ok…so that title makes it sound like this post is going to be creepy. I just got back from attending several senior presentations for Core 401 (our seminar course for seniors). I enjoyed the course when I was in college…so I wanted to see what the seniors came up with this year. The focus of this year’s seminar was “the fear of death.” One of the presentations I went to focused on what it would be like to loose a child…whether they were an infant, adolscent, young adult….etc. It was really touching…and I caught a few tears from eyes as I read through the research they had done. Another presentation talked about the process of grieving for those we have lost. I couldn’t stop thinking about my grandpa the entire time. Ever since he passed away (well over a year ago now)…I often find myself thinking about what his life stood for and how much his life impacted mine (sometimes without my even knowing it). I used to cry everytime I thought about how much I missed him…but now I tend to smile…because my memories of him are such happy ones. (Though I still cry everytime I hear his voice in my head…saying “Hello Miss Ginnifer”.) It’s funny how life can go on…and you don’t even realize how those around you have changed you…and are changing you. I have so many questions now…that I never thought to ask before he was gone…but even so…I’m at peace.
To end with…some words from a favorite hymn…it is well with my soul….
When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.
It is well, with my soul,
It is well, with my soul,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.
Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come,
Let this blest assurance control,
That Christ has regarded my helpless estate,
And hath shed His own blood for my soul.
My sin, oh, the bliss of this glorious thought!
My sin, not in part but the whole,
Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more,
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!
For me, be it Christ, be it Christ hence to live:
If Jordan above me shall roll,
No pang shall be mine, for in death as in life
Thou wilt whisper Thy peace to my soul.
But, Lord, ‘tis for Thee, for Thy coming we wait,
The sky, not the grave, is our goal;
Oh trump of the angel! Oh voice of the Lord!
Blessèd hope, blessèd rest of my soul!
And Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight,
The clouds be rolled back as a scroll;
The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend,
Even so, it is well with my soul.