I'm dying.

Good, that got your attention. Now that I have it, I would like you to take the time to read this post and take it seriously. Not seriously, as in an overly cliché "look-at-him-he-thinks-he's-so-emo-who-does-he-think-he's-trying-to-fool" kind of way, but in an honestly serious way. I'll try not to make any jokes, to help you take it seriously. Just take the time to read, and think, whoever you are, even if I don't know you. It may be long, but please read it all, and think.

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For one reason or another, I've been thinking about death lately. I'm not entirely sure why. It's not that it's been crowding my thoughts, in an unhealthy, morbid sort of way. It's just that I've been having an abnormally sober judgment of my own life and the fact that it's ending.

I want to tell you that there will come a day when I'll close my eyes for the last time, my heart will pump its last bit of blood through my body, and my lungs will release their sustaining hold, never to expand again. It will be at that moment that I will no longer be alive, and I will never spend another waking moment in this world as I now know it. A couple days later, perhaps even a week or so, there will be a small section in the newspaper that will try to explain why it happened. It will say that my life ended because of a heart attack, or some sort of cancer, or an incurable disease, or even a car wreck. Who knows, maybe if I'm lucky it will say that I died of natural causes in my old age.

But whatever it says, it won't be true. I want to tell you that right now. Whatever the doctors say is the reason for my death will not be the truth. The true reason why my body will no longer function on that day is because I'm related to you... and because you're related to me... because we're both related to a man named Adam who lived, and died, a long time ago. I'm going to die because of the fallen state that I was born into. I was born to die, actually. I guess it won't really make sense for me to ever have to tell anyone, "I'm dying", or even for anyone to ever react to that statement. The fact is that I am dying now. I've been dying for 26 years. Nothing a doctor will ever say to me can change that.

Because I'm a Christian, I think that people believe that I'm not supposed to be afraid of that day, that I'm supposed to be happy because that's the day when I will get to see my Savior Jesus Christ in all of His glory. But I want to admit to you that that's not true. I'm kind of scared for that day, and it makes me sad to think about it. No matter how much I may think I know about resurrection and heaven, the fact is that I don't really know what it will be like. Will death hurt? Will I be scared on my death bed? What will I think about? Who will be with me? What will they be thinking about?

I get sad sometimes when I leave somebody, not knowing when I will ever see them again. But there will come a day when I will leave everyone around me forever, in a sense. My wife, my children, my friends, my family: I will never again get to see them in the same way that I see them in this life. Sure, I hope to see them in heaven, but I don't even know what that will be like. My wife won't be my wife anymore. What will she be to me? Will I remember the time I spent with her during this life? What will happen to those memories? Will my children know that I'm their father? If not, how will I feel about that?

What about the people I knew and loved who didn't look to Jesus' work on the cross for their eternal salvation, who were misled by the people around them, by their culture, and by their own hearts into thinking that God would have mercy on them because they were "pretty good people"? They will not be with me. Will I cry for them? What will I feel? I don't even want to think about what they will feel.

There's a part of me, deep down inside my emotions, that doesn't want to go, that doesn't want all of this to end. I know that I should want it to end, that I should want all of the the hurt, disease, war, hate, hunger, and worry of this world to be nothing more than a faint memory of something that once happened long ago. I know that I should want to leave and be with God now. But I don't yet. There's so much to do still. There's so much time to spend with my friends and family before I'm gone, or before they're gone. And there are so many people to talk to about Jesus. And I'm scared.

If you're reading this, and you don't know of the good news of ultimate salvation from the sting of death and from the curse of sin, and I talk to you someday (hopefully soon) about it, please don't take offense. Please don't be angry with me for it. The truth is that if I talk to you about it, I will be very scared. My heart will be beating fast in my chest, my palms will be sweaty, and my body will be warm with adrenaline. This will be happening to me because, if I talk to you about Jesus, I will be afraid of what you might think of me, of what you might say back to me. I'm afraid that you will think I'm a freak, or some sort of a brainwashed nutjob. But the very real truth, as honestly as I can tell it to you now, is that for me to find the courage to talk to you about Jesus anyway, in spite of my fear, is because I care for you. If I try to talk to you about your eternal salvation, it's because I wonder about it, and I care about it, because I care about you. If I ask to talk to you about the gospel, it's because I love you. Please don't be mad, because I'm going to be scared enough as it is. But please listen to me, because I love you. If you know that I love you, please listen to what I have to say.

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If you're reading this and you don't know what's going to happen to you on the day that you die; or you think you do, but you're not really sure; or you try not to ever think about it, and put it in the far back of your mind; or even if you once did, but you don't have a confidence or an assurance about it anymore... please talk to me. Send me an email. It doesn't matter if you don't know me. I would like to talk to you about it, even if I'm scared. If you're scared, I won't think you're silly, because I'll be scared, too, but please talk to me anyway. If you do know me, don't be alarmed if I send you an email sometime, or give you a call to talk. Please don't think I'm silly, but talk to me.

"For I am not ashamed of the gospel, for it is the power of God for salvation to everyone who believes, to the Jew first and also to the Greek." -Romans 1:16

carignanc@gmail.com