To Fear Death

"What's going to happen to all my stuff, all my things?"

Eyes big and blue look at me searchingly.

His small, sharp, chin is hidden under covers of red fire trucks and blue cars and his fingertips grasp the edge of the sheets as he waits.

Stuffed animals lay close to his sweet, yellow haired head that my hands gently touch and smooth. Pooh, and a bear that still rattles from infancy, an eagle, and an owl named Jamberin snuggle close by. 

On the walls hang his art, pictures of him as a little boy, his small hand prints and fingers prints on a frame. On the shelves his latest creations from legos and there's magnets, and train pieces and gears and books and who knows what under his bed.

"What do you mean what will happen to your things?" My eyes squint, brows crease, a hand lifts to brush his cheek.

"When I die? What will happen to my things? I guess some other children will have them."



Silence. Death it comes up at least once or twice a month. The pages of the Book are covered with stories of life and death and resurrection and miracles that's it only rational for a little, curious boy of seven to want to know more.

More of what I feared the most and what I liked to talk the least.

More of what I knew little of, heaven, and I didn't let him see it, the fear of death.

Pushing it aside, I spoke peace and happiness even though grey clouds the brain and the heart skips a beat for death can mean done if you let it.



"Well, hopefully they will be your children who will have them. But don't worry honey heaven is an amazing place, full of things that your little mind and my big one can't even imagine. But its the perfect place, the most beautiful home, more like a castle with jewels and a big gate and walls, maybe a robot castle and I'm sure there will be plenty of mazes for your feet to travel, plenty of tire swings and sea green pools and you won't have to worry about holding your breath or swallowing water and yes God and Jesus are there and yes, people from the Bible and yes, I will be there waiting for you."

"Can I fly?"

I picture him even as a young boy he always would try, he would flap his skinny little arms and jump and jump always hoping to soar, to fly high.

"I can't fly because of gravity...see." The covers come off and a little, excited boy stands on his bed and flaps his arms only to drop to his feet on the floor.



"Well, I don't know about that. Maybe if you ask God he will let you fly. It does say that we will be like the angels in heaven but we have to believe with all hearts, believe in His truth."

His eyes lock mine and for a moment his ears soak in words and I can see pictures looming in front of his mind.

"Heaven is a place that we don't really know much about except that it must be the best place for God is there. There's no crying, or pain, or anger, or unkindness but only happiness and excitement like Christmas morning over and over again but while we are here on earth we should praise and worship God and thank him for everyday, every night, every laugh and cry, every moment."

I kiss his cheek and he is content, content in believing he can fly in heaven and a Mom touches his cheek hoping to be able to see her little boy grow up to the moment when she know longer does.

{Death can mean done and so can Life. Life can be done without even having to die.}

{For to live life in fear of death is to live a life that is already done, already gone.}


Sometimes this fear can trap the throat, and tremble the heart, and shake the bones, and cry tears and it kills the life of the soul and its real.

But to speak Heaven and life to a boy opens and flings the gate of the spirit into His majesty of peace and rest and joy in the death.

God never meant for there to be death. 

Since creation he adored Adam and Eve and there was no sickness and death but life and freedom and deliverance from but with sin came death with deception and jealously came evil and it flourished and grew.

Death and evil angered Him. He sought away around it but could find known except His Son whom death could not hold or keep buried and through Him became a passage of deliverance.

The body will crumble and be sickened and shortened and years blow by and whither away and hair turns grey and legs crack, and hips pop, and eyes squint, and skin wrinkles but the soul... the soul and spirit continue to grow and its a growth that will break through the cage of its dwelling and it will one day fly and it will soar into the heavens above because it has been delivered and it is home.

Tend the soul and spirit. Tend the Spirit. Speak the word. I need to. For it erases fear and pushes Life towards deliverance and a life that is never done.


{Speak His words in life for it rids the mind and body of fear and flings open the soul to really live and grow.}


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