Tuesday's Art: Rage Against the Dying

Times come in our lives where death can seem like our friend. And in a way, it is: it's our portal to heaven, a doorway to the end of suffering. Sometimes, this view of death is acceptable, when one has done all they can to stay alive but illness, injury, or old age brings about the inevitable. At this time, death is the lesser evil, and knowing our end is not an end at all, we pray for it to come quickly.

But however much we might rejoice in the relief our 100-year-old great-grandmother feels, however much we may rejoice in her joy at seeing Christ face to face, we still cannot help but weep for our own loss of her company. A century is not enough. That's because death--though it has no victory--is in all reality not a friend. It is the wages of sin (Romans 6:23). And no matter what, it hurts.

There were times in my sickly lifetime that I begged for death in desperate prayers that were graciously ignored by God. Today, though nowhere near wishing for death, I still relate to that desperation, that hopelessness, that guttural need for the suffering to stop.

Today, I still pray for relief, but I leave the manner of relief up to God. Perhaps our relief will come in the changing of our conditions, perhaps in our acceptance of them, or perhaps it will come in the Light we are able to point others to so that they, too, might have the strength to rage against the dying of the light. Here's Dylan Thomas' poem written for his father, "Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night."

Suggested verse to repeat if it's a difficult day is from Psalm 38:2a

PRC buddies, remember to breathe!

"Make haste to help me, -------> 5 count inhale

O LORD." -------> 5 count exhale