Journeying and Journaling through Matthew
When my sister was 4 years old, she got a puppy for her birthday. My mom told her she got the dog because she would not get a sibling, especially not a sister (she already had four older brothers). Unbeknownst to my mom at the time, she was pregnant with me. The first five siblings are eight and a half years apart, and my sister and I are four and a half years apart. I was not planned. But what my mom always told me was that I was a surprise, not an accident. Her definition of a surprise is something you didn’t know you wanted until you got it.
Very few things rattled my mom. Even when her husband got sick and died suddenly, she dealt with it well. Despite all of the curveballs that got thrown her way throughout her life and all the challenges she had to deal with because of her six children, she took things in stride. She was ready for anything. She could handle most things that came her way, and she managed to do so with grace. A lot of that was because of her faith.
When she found out she had cancer, it wasn’t with a resigned spirit that she decided not to do treatment, but with a comfort and contentment that only comes from knowing and trusting God. She knew that she was going to finally get to heaven. Not only to see her husband and parents who had died before her but to finally meet her Creator and Savior and the Holy Spirit.
She was so ready that she wrote her obituary; of course she did. One day, I was at her house helping her, and she handed me a legal pad and asked me to read what she had written. About one line in, I realized it was her obituary. I looked up at her incredulously. Did she really want me to read her obituary before she died? She nodded at me and said, “Aloud.”
Yes, she did want me to read her obituary. Out loud to her. I took a deep breath and began. I cried through much of it, which she chided me for. Why was I crying? We all knew she was going to die. In addition to her readiness, she was also very practical. She wanted her obituary to be hers alone. By writing it herself, she knew that she was going to have the last word on her life. She was going to get to say the things she wanted to say and acknowledge the people she wanted to acknowledge. She knew exactly what she was doing.
Just about a week before she died, I was sitting with her and she asked me if I thought she would make it through the night. I had. I had been planning to head home after I got her settled in bed for the night. But when she asked me that, my plans changed. At her request, I called around to find a priest for her last rites. It was this clarity that she had at the end of her life that gave me so much comfort in letting her go.
Jesus is talking to his disciples about this type of readiness. He is, of course, ready for his own death. He has known all along the path he is on and where it is leading him. He also knows that he has a short time to teach and guide his disciples and all of his followers, present and future. He had so much to say and do to help us get ready. He did so with confidence and urgency.
Jesus knows that people will come and try to deceive us. He knows how easy it is for us to slip up, so he warns us to be ready. He wants us to take life as it comes, but not to waver in our commitment to him. Each day we have a new chance to be active agents for Jesus. We need to stay alert and ready for whatever comes our way. And the only way to do that is to put our preparation in Jesus’ hands. Let him guide us. Keep our eyes on him. And accept the surprises that come in this world with grace and faith.