Life and Death:
Mutually exclusive, yet
You can't have life without death, for all must die.
You can't have death without life, for,
Death of whom but he who had lived?
Is life just the path to death?
—a means to an end;
—ceaseless striving that leads us to the peace of the grave?
Shall we not then welcome death as
the only solution to life's dilemmas?
Thus the mind may reason, but my spirit says, "No!"
For me to passively accede to death,
some transaction must take place.
A part of me must be sold
—that part which refuses friendship with death.
Shall I sell my soul for some cheap peace of mind?
For some shallow reassurance that it's natural
to lie down and breath my last?
"No, no!" cries my heart,
"God made me for more than death.
You may have your peaceful rest,
but I don't buy it!
"I was not created for some temporal,
ultimately meaningless existence.
The eternal God made me for eternity!"
But my mind sought proof of my heart's hypothesis,
and found it in this: that God became a man.
There was an inception in time;
a point of entry in our time-bound world.
A child was born.
The eternal One stepped out of eternity and into time;
out of life and into death.
But He was different from you and me.
He had no sin, therefore death was not in Him.
Time worked not against Him, for He owned it.
Death had no claim on Him, yet
He submitted to it on our behalf.
Now my spirit and my mind cry out in concert,
"Glory be to God and to His Son!"
For in Christ I have staked my claim on eternity.
Death has lost its grip on me.
I am very happy about that.