Will I "make it?"

"Who will die next?"

Last Sunday, this question was posed to the group during sharing time.  It's a logical question, but it had an icy truth to it.  Which one of us would be the next one from our church to die?

Last week a dear mother figure in our church, Kanmati Diamand, passed away.   I remember her from when I first came to New York, 21 years ago.  She reminded me a little of the women who followed Jesus around -- not a lot of words but just steady devotion.  Kanmati was so steady that I almost forgot she was there, sort of like the sunrise that freely shares its beauty while I press the snooze button.

She was always sitting there on the right hand side toward the front at church.  When she shared a word, it was difficult for me to understand, and I never put the effort out there to really understand. 

Having been raised in a devout Hindu family, it was reported that she had fierce battles in the spiritual realm, but I never saw those.  Others had done the prayer and fasting as Jesus said, and the Holy Spirit had made His home in her.  The "strong man" was bound, but he kept up his murderous threats.  

As she got weaker and weaker, I wondered if I should go visit her in the hospital, but I didn't really know her, and somehow life just crowded out that thought.  Now there is no more chance.

The day before she died, our pastor, Rich Schwartz, visited her.  She could not speak anymore, but she could write.  She wrote out these words, "God is good all the time."

When I heard she died, an unusual thought crossed my mind, "She made it!"  Like an exhausted marathon runner who is cramping in both legs in the 25th mile, her last mile was not easy.  I quietly worried for her.

But now, she made it!

The last mile is typically not easy, even for Christians.  "Aging includes a series of losses," my Social Work Professor and mentor once said. Siblings pass away, friends pass away, your occupation is gone, your primary roles leave, and finally your independence gradually leaves. All this must be handled in the context of physical pain and discomfort.  Aging is like one big final assignment, the magnum opus of life. Is there any test greater than this?  Can we pass the test? 

I don't know which one of us will die next, but I know I will have been a success if the same words can be said of me, "He made it!"