Facing into death

Mom's death has forced me to face into fears that I hadn't considered before. I've never been scared of death. Mostly, I only worry about what will happen to my kids if I die while they are young. I live differently when I have kids to live for.

Thinking about death since my mom died has weighed me down. Beyond the loss of not having her here, it's made me face my own mortality more. She asked me lots of questions while she was sick. She wanted to know what my plans were. She wanted to know what I believed. She warned me about pitfalls that she thought I'd encounter in life. She asked and warned and prayed because she loves me and wanted to help me process death better, and also because she wanted to leave a last bit of legacy in my life.

This is what I've learned:

-I'm more scared of death than I thought.
They say that times like this make you face into the truth of whether you really believe what you say you believe. While I know the "God of my daily life," I've seen Him work, I talk to Him constantly, and I trust Him with the things I hold most dear in life, I have no experience with the "God of after death." I know that's an odd (and not theologically sound) way to define God, but there's no way to experience the afterlife other than to, well, die. There is only what God has said and revealed. It sounds stupid, but I'm so comfortable with surviving in this world that going to the Unknown is a little scary, even though I know Who is there. I laugh even writing this. Who would worry about going from the "Shadowlands" into "reality"? If this world is only a shadow of good things to come, why the hesitation? Maybe I am holding onto a false sense of control here. I don't like leaving my past. I take thousands of photos, keep silly mementos of past times, and value my "history." If my house was burning down and I could save one thing (other than my kids), I might die because I wouldn't be able to choose between all of my precious mementos and photo albums. Leaving all this "life" and stepping naked into the Great Unknown is a tough thought for me.

-I'm scared of not living well enough in the time that I have here.
At the end, I guess it really doesn't matter in a way. If I love God, I live forever in Heaven. I could be miserable, or evil, or kind, or loving, or selfish... no matter how I succeed or fail, as long as I love God and end up in Heaven, I win, right? But I don't want to leave a legacy of broken relationship, wounded hearts, and disbelief either. I don't want to have people shrug or even sigh in relief when I die. Not that I care on a selfish level, but how have I wasted the hours of my life if my love hasn't reached others? Death is final. There are no do-overs. You can't reload the game and try to play it differently the second time around. I want to be strong and deeply beneficial to the people in my life. In the battle of life, I want to be a good warrior, not just some weeny who enlisted and wore the uniform, but didn't really contribute to the unit. I want to be the one who makes people feel stronger when I am fighting at their side. I want to leave a legacy of hope and life.

-I'm scared of not being able to tell everybody everything that I want to say before I die.
Which is also a little dumb. Who do I think I am to think that my words are so valuable? Mainly this is directed at my kids, I suppose. I always hate when I'm reading a book series and the author quits writing before I feel satisfied with the outcomes for all the characters. What if that one girl doesn't find love? What if that guy never finds his father? I want to know that they all lived "happily ever after." I want to see my kids grow up, live well, be happy. I want to snuggle my grandkids and to see them grow up and be happy. But none of this is my job. It's cool if things work out that way, but I'm not in charge of the universe. I have to trust God enough to trust him with my children's future, and their children's future, and their children's children's future.

I think this whole ramble boils down to one thing: Losing my mom has shown me that I have too tight of a grip on this world and not enough trust in God. If I really believe what I really believe, I can rest in the knowledge that God is in control. My job is to spend all the hours He's given me wisely. That is all.