Today, as I was praying for his family and friends, I was sobered by how incredibly quickly such a vibrant young life can be cut short. Yet at the same time, as Christians, we have the hope of the knowledge that to be called home to be with Christ is far better than our earthly lives. Thinking of this, I was reminded of the following poem.
Gone From My Sight
I am standing upon the seashore.
A ship at my side spreads her white
sails to the morning breeze and starts
for the blue ocean.
She is an object of beauty and strength.
I stand and watch her until at length
she hangs like a speck of white cloud
just where the sea and sky come
to mingle with each other.
Then, someone at my side says;
“There, she is gone!”
Gone from my sight. That is all.
She is just as large in mast and hull
and spar as she was when she left my side
and she is just as able to bear her
load of living freight to her destined port.
Her diminished size is in me, not in her.
And just at the moment when someone
at my side says, “There, she is gone!”
There are other eyes watching her coming,
and other voices ready to take up the glad shout;
“Here she comes!”
And that is dying.
Henry Van Dyke (American short-story Writer, Poet and Essayist, 1852-1933)
"Jesus said unto her, 'I am the resurrection, and the life: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live: and whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die." - John 11:25-26