Till We Meet
Were this the only state of existence—even life itself, filled with such vibrance as it is, would be a tragedy.
But our true selves, the essence of our nature, the spirit that invigorates our flesh, was born of eternal matter, to parents more lasting than the universe itself.
We live on.
We sometimes call death a passing. If death is a passing, it’s like passing a friend in the hallway. First he comes into view, and we acknowledge him, then he passes. He isn’t gone. He doesn’t cease to exist because he is no longer before us. He passes, walks on, lives on.
We sometimes call death a journey. If death is a journey, it’s like a journey from one room into the next. The friend isn’t far simply because she is in the next room. She is still close enough to hear and see, except for a thin wall; a wall that sometimes better resembles glass than concrete.
Some call death a separation. If death is a separation, it’s like stepping back from an embrace. Without physical contact, we may experience loneliness. But even eye contact, one of the most powerful connections, can be maintained at a short, if temporary distance.
Perhaps we’re uncomfortable with goodbyes because deep down, we know there is no such thing. Were it not for the Savior Jesus Christ, all goodbyes would be final. But because of Him, they no longer exist. And for those who choose His path, the reunions will be glorious.