The way I want to go

Yesterday at the park I met a woman whose husband died two years ago. Desiree's master (we only know each other's dogs' names) told me her spouse had worked 47 years at the SPS steel plant in town. He had been retired for only two weeks. That morning they went to Home Depot together, and he seemed fine. Later in the day he died suddenly sitting upright in his chair watching ESPN.

At this point you are supposed to say (not necessarily to the widow): "That's the way I want to go! No pain. No lingering illness. No power of attorney. No metaphysical decisions beyond my ken regarding state-of-the-art hospital technologies."

The story totally freaked me out; I thought about it all day. I have no idea whether this man had a relationship with Jesus; let's hope he did. But just the thought of watching the Eagles and Cowboys one minute and being before the Judge the next minute is too surreal. Imagine the surprise of finding out, in one hot moment, that there was so much more to life-and you missed it.

The Bible says, "Better is the end of a thing than its beginning" (Ecclesiastes 7:8). I have always taken that to mean that the final chapter is the chapter that counts most. A grand finale serving God seems to help soothe the regret of many years that the locust have eaten. "Stay dressed for action and keep your lamps burning, and be like men who are waiting for their master to come home from the wedding feast, so that they may open the door to him at once when he comes and knocks. . . ." (Luke 12:35-37). That's the way I want to go.

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