Say a prayer for the dead

Every morning on my short commute to work, I pass by a Planned Parenthood clinic. I don't think I've actually seen one before, or at least seen one and understood what it was until now. The first morning I drove by I felt like a shock just looking at it, thinking about what happens there, lives ended and mothers leaving broken. I was quickly compelled to turn off my radio and say a Hail Mary. Now everytime I pass it, going to and from work, I do just that. I turn off my radio and pause for a moment in prayer. One morning, two people were outside with signs encouraging LIFE, and I smiled, knowing I wasn't the only one who prayed for the people who go through that clinic. It encouraged me, and so I continued my tradition of praying as I drove by.

Just the other day on the way to work, I saw a lot of activity outside the Catholic church that is just around the corner from the office; it was a funeral, hearse was in the street, the casket was just taken out of the church, many people were gathered. Again, my heart was shaken, I turned off the radio, and prayed. Prayed for the deceased, for the family and friends who mourn. Still praying and thinking, I turned the corner and once again drove past the Planned Parenthood clinic, praying again for the deceased and for the mothers who bear the pain.

And then I thought, there are two very opposite ends of the end of this life we lead. In the clinic, death occurs before they even have a chance to be in this world. At the church, death occured to someone who had a chance to live their life. I thought to myself--what is more tragic? Pulling into the parking lot of the office, thoughts of paperwork and computer software filled my mind.
But, it is something to think about. We always like our lives categorized, organized; certain things go in certain places, we classify people and objects and that is just what we do. We hear of someone who was killed by a murderer and think, "oh how awful", yet hear of a man who died of old age and think "well, he sure lived a good life, didn't he?" And that is where my mind gets confused. Is it right for ourselves to put these classifications on death? Like, a good death or a bad death?

When trying to tackle this, I thought of myself in the car that morning. My heart was shaken at the thought of both the death of the unborn and the death of an adult. So my conclusion, it doesn't matter. Death is not the end. While yes, in our minds we categorize death in different ways, we must always remember that death is merely the end of life on earth. We also have to remember the death Christ endured for us so that our human death is not the end. He died so that our death would be the beginning of a new life. Now, I think again, is that death tragic, the death of our Savior? Once again, it doesn't matter. Yes, the death He endured, death on a Cross, was horribly painful and difficult to think about. But, that suffering only shows the incredible love He had for both His Father and His Father's people--us.

So, to wrap up this very long winded post; death is death. It is the end of this life. But, thanks to the gift of our Loving Savior, it is not the end of ALL life, it is the start of the everlasting life, the gift we recieved when He conquered death.

So tomorrow, as I drive by the church and think of the funerals offered there, and the clinic and think of the children lost there, I will continue to pray. And, I will remember that death, in all forms, can be tragic; yet it is also the beginning a new life. Like a ship going over the horizon, we soon fail to see it, yet someone on the other side will see it soon.

"For if what was going to fade was glorious, how much more will what endures be glorious?"
~2 Corinthians 3:11