Thoughts on the afterlife

I don’t see a dead body very often.

So when I do, I still react. And think.

Driving home from vacation, my wife and I saw the results of a violent accident involving two cars on a busy highway. 

We saw the police and firefighters. We saw the usual blinking lights of the cars, trucks and ambulances.

And then we saw a body lying on the pavement. Face up. Waiting to be “processed.”

I said to Wendy, “Well, someone’s life just changed.”

And she replied, in her usual wiser-than-me way, “A whole lot of lives just changed.”

She is right, of course. One of my pastors once discussed that “instant” when you cross over. In one instant you are part of this world, with all its joys and concerns, and then an instant later you are gone from it, never to return.

Never. To. Return.

Without getting into an argument about what happens after you die, I am hopeful that, after all this, something actually does happen when we pass. To not have anything happen would be such a disappointment.

I mean, we are told to live by all these rules and there is some kind of implied promise that by following them, we will somehow benefit.

But what if we don’t. What if it all just … ends?

I recall thinking when my father passed away, “Well, at least he knows.”   

What I meant was that after living a life dedicated to improving the lives of others, my father now knew the answer. Are good people like him rewarded? Do bad people go somewhere not so nice?  Does anyone, good or bad, go anywhere at all?

I don’t know the answer. I do know lots of people have lots of opinions and they make all kinds of efforts to swing my belief in their direction.

It occurred to me that just a few minutes prior to us passing the accident, this victim had real thoughts, real concerns, real feelings, real … everything.

And then their instant came. And all those thoughts, all those concerns, all those feelings now didn’t matter.

Instead, they had something equally valuable. They knew the answer to life’s biggest question.

Some people exit this world knowing their transition is coming. Many have time to “dot their i’s and cross their t’s.” My guess is, this person did not. 

My guess is, they were thinking about their day, maybe the last conversation. Maybe they were cheering on their football team. 

Maybe they were … It doesn’t matter. Their instant was upon them.

For a time after we drove past the accident, I thought about this miracle we are given with a life. And I thought about how we fritter this miracle away, misuse our miracle, or don’t even acknowledge what a miracle we are allowed to experience.

But the question remains, when our miracle ends, what happens?

In an odd way, I almost envy those who die. For in this life where we all struggle with the big questions of where did we come from, why are we here, and where are we going, people like my father are way ahead of me.

They know the answer.

And while I am not ready for my instant and the answer, I am certainly hoping that I get one.