In the Land of Grief: The Lion Roars

The hues of death take me to lands I’ve never before traveled.

Mountains of grief snatch air from my chest the higher I climb.

Valleys of sorrow hide the sun from my face.

Who are you, Death? What have you done to my family? Have you come solely for the purpose of breaking our hearts? You bombarded our home. You came wielding evil. Your aim was to destroy us. Your sword pierced us. You left a mark.

And so our hearts are heavy.

We were not made for this.

So what now that Life’s vengeful twin is closer than a brother?

I hear the chants of the Christian greats before me, “Where Oh Death, where is your victory? Where Oh Death is your sting?”

My momentary afflictions say Death is right here.

But my soul beckons me to remember.

Remember the mornings you spent in worship, when His goodness slipped into your being. Remember what you know — that God is truly good.

In the foreground I hear the leaves rustle. They tell me of a drama taking place in the unseen.

Heavenly anticipation builds. Creation suspends its breathing.

Piercing from the darkness, a triumphant voice roars, “Death, I am coming after you!”

The weight of His words strike fear and comfort in my bones.

Who can stand under the wrath of God? I do not know.

As His children’s sufferings increase, His resolve to overwhelm death rages stronger. His wrath grows fiercer.

The elements of Earth sway fervently, both bowing in reverence and cowering in fear. But I do not fret. My God has come to save me!

Exhausted, but kept alive by a steady pulse. There’s a triumphal procession taking place, but I can’t see it. I’m laid out on the ground, ready to meet my maker.

On the mountaintop I see Him—The Lion—the one I’ve read about since I was a child. It’s really Him. Fiercely, steadily, unflinchingly. He stares Death in the face. Death knows it’s over, but in arrogance retorts saying, “You can’t kill me!

With a swift arm, Christ grabbed Death by the neck and squeezed its very life out. In a final act of violence, death was swallowed.

The winds of suffering have subsided and I have no more questions. My soul is bare before The Lord. I worship in awe. Who is this God I serve?

“I Am Who I always said I was.”

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