(Written on the occasion of a friend’s seventeen year old son who recently passed away).

Dominique was seventeen years old when he died. At the age of five years old, his body began to show signs of an inherited disease named “Sanfilippo”. This disease manifests itself in young children. Infants usually appear normal but as the child grows, symptoms begin to occur, including dwarfism of the body.

Children with this disease become increasingly immobile and unresponsive, often requiring wheelchairs, and develop swallowing difficulties and seizures. The life-span of an affected child does not usually extend beyond late teens to early twenties. Dominique could not walk and required constant 24/7 care. Though he qualified to be placed in a nursing facility, his mother and father refused this option and took care of Dominique his entire life in their home.

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Death is always an intrusion into our lives and its interruption is never convenient. Death is always that cruel blow to our soul that causes us to grieve and feel such horrible sorrow. Death is the unfriendly disturbance that forces us to rethink our perspective on life and it painfully reminds us that life is always too short for us and for our loved ones who pass away.

Death is that great imposition for which we never find ourselves fully prepared-our busy lives must stop.........which propels our memories to abound as we think about precious moments we enjoyed in days and years gone by.

Death makes our world to abruptly stop.............yet, life continues on and the world around us may only pause to read the obituary, visit the funeral home, send a
card, stop along the highway as the funeral procession passes by, or simply ignore the fact that someone has passed from this life to the next.

Death is that last great enemy over which we have no control. And, death cruelly reminds of our own soon final act. We suppress that thought to the recesses of our minds, yet, we are constantly bombarded by this haunting Joker in the deck of cards of life. It seems as though he laughs at us and it seems as though he is glad. But, there is something far beyond this gruesome adversary. There is something far beyond that exceeds our very grasp.

It is that place called heaven: walls of jasper, gates of pearl and golden streets. There are family members and friends who are there...anxiously awaiting our entrance through those pearly gates. They know what is waiting for us: a perfect palace, a perfect body, and a great and glorious reunion when make a grandiose entrance into that holy Temple.

There is no time in heaven and there is no schedule to keep. There are no worries in heaven and there are no tears to shed. There is no fear in heaven and there is no sin anymore.

No, in heaven there is such beauty that the human eye and mind cannot begin to understand. Those who have gone on before us fully know what we now can only make a feeble attempt to comprehend....how wonderful this called heaven really is. And, those who have gone on before us know that once we make our majestic appearance into that Upper Room, there will be desire to return to this old and cold and cruel sinful world.

It is there in heaven that we come to know that it was worth it all while we lived on the earth: that it really was worth it to follow our precious Lord.

It is there in heaven that we will come to know that, while we lived on earth, God treated us with dignity and respect and He always looked upon us as cloaked with robes of royalty and heralded with crowns.

And, it is there in heaven that we will finally say to Him:

“So, You were in everything after all. Now, I see Lord that You really were there in those difficult places of life. You were really there in those deep and dark valleys when I thought You had forgotten me. You were really there when I thought You didn’t care about me. You were really there when I felt like I couldn’t go on. I see, now, that You were there in everything, carrying me like a Father carries His little child to lay him down in the bed at night.”

“But, was that you, God, in the storms that railed against me and thrust my life into the pit”?

“Yes, My child that was Me”.

“And, was that you, God, in that lonely valley I walked through in those dark and lonely nights”?

“Yes, My child that was Me”

“Was that you, God........”?

“Yes, My child, it was always Me”.

The victor seems to be death......but death never actually wins.

Jesus is the victor and He is the One Who wins. And, though it seems as if our hearts are broken and it seems as though our hearts will never heal, our loved ones who have gone on to heaven now rest in the Victor’s arms and enjoy His presence that is beyond our comprehension. And, one day soon, we shall join them over there.

Death is not the victor... death can only sting. Jesus is the Victor and death is never the end!