Perspective in the Big Things

Death, where is thy sting?
Our victory is won.

Death, why should I fear?
Our difficulties are temporary.

Death, you are our enemy,
Yet the battle is not my own.

Death, perspective is everything.
We grieve, but ultimately we can rejoice.

I was recently asked if thinking about death makes us morbid. I suppose there is a sense of obsession that could occur and be unhealthy. To me, thinking of our inheritance is important. Being reminded that there is victory. Knowing He will arrive in just a little while, after we have endured, is key. The righteous live by faith, after all.

From 1 Cor 15:

"50 I tell you this, brothers: flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God, nor does the perishable inherit the imperishable. 51 Behold! I tell you a mystery. We shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed, 52 in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, and the dead will be raised imperishable, and we shall be changed. 53 For this perishable body must put on the imperishable, and this mortal body must put on immortality. 54 When the perishable puts on the imperishable, and the mortal puts on immortality, then shall come to pass the saying that is written:

“Death is swallowed up in victory.”

55 “O death, where is your victory?
O death, where is your sting?”

56 The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. 57 But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ."

Turning Forty

It's been a while since I've posted. In that time, I turned the big 4-0. Eventful? Yes, from a social standpoint; but from an age standpoint, it didn't feel like a "rite of passage" moment. Was it supposed to? Was I supposed to have a ton of angst, disenchantment, or relief?

Really, at the crux of it, I'm not insecure about who I am anymore. At the age of 16, I questioned everything; who I was, who my friends were, if anyone liked me, why I was of Indian descent, why I was so sensitive, why my friends seemed to have fun but I didn't, etc etc. That was angst. At the age of 25, I was married and working, with two young children, and I was somewhat comfortable. I didn't feel like an adult yet, though, and I worried constantly with mom-guilt. I also worried about what the world would be like for my girls, what kind of wife I was, and if I was doing all I could in my career. At the age of 30, I was a mess. I'd been a Christian for a couple of years, just separated from my husband, was worried about my kids, and I was just numb.

40 is none of that. The last couple of years in certain ways were like letting go. Some of this, I know, is circumstantial. My kids are 19 and 15 now. I'm on pretty good terms with my ex-husband, thankfully. I still have a job and I love my church. Again, circumstantial. 40 for me is being comfortable, not just with circumstances, but with knowing who I am in Christ. I can't say that I am comfortable with myself - there is so much sin there, it's pretty uncomfortable - but it's about trusting that it will be made right. Rob Looper, a pastor acquaintance of mine, wrote this blogpost which I think is a great way of saying what I'm fumbling around trying to say.

My daughter M threw a wonderful surprise party for me at Olive Garden with the help of friends and family. My sister and parents came to visit, too - also a surprise. What a blessing.