Shock. Fear. Anger. Denial. Devastation. Panic. Emptiness.
Powerful words. Strong emotions. But that can be what happens when someone is diagnosed with a terminal illness. That moment when we learn a cancer or degenerative disease has passed the point of no return has to be one of the scariest moments any human can experience.
We know mortality will catch up with us one day. Unless Jesus returns within the next few decades, there is no getting away from the fact we will die. But most of us want to assume that day is a long time in the future. When the doctor gives us – or someone we love – the news that there are only months left, we can feel as if everything has been ripped apart. Our plans, our dreams, our relationships, our very beings torn in two.
There will need to be moments to sit and hold the ones we love – no words, just tears and a tender embrace. There will be moments of practical planning – conversations to be had, treatment to define, paperwork to process. There will be goodbyes to be said, final dreams to fulfill – life comes into sharp focus as the end draws close. But more than anything, there will be hope to hold on to.
Hope? Really? Yes - sure and certain hope! The hope that what matters most isn’t going to be ripped away, the hope that this is not the end at all, the hope that God is still lovingly sovereign (1Timothy 1:17), a refuge in dark places (Psalm 46:1) and will keep surrounding us with his everlasting arms (Deuteronomy 33:27).
There will be moments when hope doesn’t feel possible – doubts and sheer terror can blind us to what lies ahead - but the consistent message of the Bible is one that is overflowing with confidence. This life is not all there is. For those who are in Christ, there is so much more – that is so much better – in the decades, the centuries that stretch out before us.
So if you are facing a terminal illness yourself – or love a brother or sister in Christ who is. Please focus on the truth - the glorious and hope-laden truth - this is not the end … the best is yet to come.
