Blog Post 9 for apologetics
March 27, 2018
Death is not something I have wrestled with a whole lot in my life. I can’t remember a particular moment where I panicked about death or even thought overly about what would happen if I died. My first time being exposed to death by a close family member was when my Opa passed away when I was fifteen. My Opa had been diagnosed with Parkinson’s five years prior to that so in the last two years we didn’t really get to experience the true Opa.
Parkinson’s is a hard disease to deal with because even though my Opa was around five years after his diagnoses, we couldn’t really connect with him for a while. His mind started degrading and he started acting irrationally. I remember my Oma calling several times when my Opa wouldn’t take his medications or was acting out and she felt scared.
Before the Parkinson’s, my Opa worked as a carpenter and I remember visiting and starting projects in the backyard where we would shave and mold wood into fantastic creations. I still have a helicopter we built in my room. There were so many great things that I remember doing with him, but as time went on it was harder and harder to connect with him and eventually he was in his own world. It almost felt like pulling a band aid off, but slowly.
At the funeral for my Opa I remember being confused a lot of the time. I felt like I should be sad and shaken by his death, but we had all known it was coming for years now. He had lived longer than the doctors had expected. When people would wish their condolences to us, I thanked them, but didn’t really know how to react. My Opa was a good man, and I knew that the pain and confusion that had been haunting him with his Parkinson’s was gone now. I found it hard to be sad, I think, because I knew that he was better off know. He was living with Jesus and away from the body that was hurting him.
I’ve lived in a pretty close knit Christian bubble for a lot of my life and because of that I think funerals and deaths of friends and family haven’t had as much of an effect on me. I believed that everyone was going to a better place anyways so I never had anything to worry about. I think it would be very different if a close friend of mine who hadn’t accepted Jesus into his/her life, passed away. I wouldn’t have the same assurance of knowing what would happen to them.
I lead a small bible study group each Tuesday and this week we talked about spreading the gospel and why evangelising is so important. One of the guys in my group summarized it really well I think. “If you truly believe in an eternal life where you can either go to heaven or hell, then you must really not care about someone not to tell them about the gospel. If you knew someone was going to get hit by a truck and they didn’t believe you, how long would you wait until you threw yourself at that person to knock them away from the truck?” It’s a harsh reality, but that really hit me recently, I should try to spread God’s love more, because I really want to see a lot of people in heaven.