In the midst of death ...

... we are in life.

Late last year (is it that long ago already?) I blogged about some of the people who come into Gospel Mission and The Lord's Rain, including Richard. Among other things, I mentioned how he would invariably get a cup of coffee for himself "and another for m' ol' lady" and go out to try to find her. Over time, we grew to wonder if said "ol' lady" was kind of like Maris on "Frasier" or Duffy on "Duffy's Tavern" -- someone who is talked about but never actually seen; and a mental jigsaw puzzle starts to come together.

A few months ago, though, Richard did bring his "ol' lady" into The Lord's Rain -- and to my surprise, it was a woman I'd seen and been aware of for a few years. I don't know why that surprised me: the surprise turned to marvel, realizing how much Richard cared for her and that even in an area as chronically nasty as the Downtown East Side, you can still find that kind of caring.

She had a name -- besides "m'ol' lady" -- Brenda; and she would often be seen, wandering the streets, begging for a buck here, a toonie there ... or food, or a cigarette ... I last saw her two Wednesdays ago, sitting at a table outside a little storefront coffee-and-smoothie place on Carrall Street.

"Can you help me get in there?" she asked, pointing to the Rainier, a recently opened single-room-occupancy hotel across the street. "I don't like the Portland, where I am now. Can you help me get in there?" I told her I understood the Rainier was run by the Portland Housing Society too, but I'd see what I could find out and get word to her through Richard.

"OK. Do you have a loonie or a toonie?"

I didn't -- and I wouldn't give money, anyway, on principle.

Before I could look into the Rainier, though, Brenda went into hospital. I found out about it through Richard. "She's got stuff in her lungs," he said.

Last Saturday, Richard was already in The Lord's Rain by the time I came down from the Mission upstairs. He was wearing sunglasses, which I thought was odd.

"We gotta pray for Richard," John began. "His 'ol' lady' ..."

"I heard," I said. "In hospital."

"She died last night."

"'bout 6 o'clock," Richard said. "I was with her in the afternoon. Then she died. I saw the body. I'm pretty much all cried-out now." Hence, the sunglasses.

"You know we're here," John said. "You wanna talk ... you want anything ... we're here -- you know that."

We prayed over him -- to have strength and keep seeking God through the bad as well as the good -- and we just stood nearby him.

He flashed a grin. "Have some coffee, Drew," he said. "It'll wake ya up!"

The Enemy tries to make death seem like a horrible thing, and truly the fear of death is the main weapon he uses against us. Pretty much every sin is rooted in the fear of death: if we feel deprived, hungry, sick, depressed, it's because we are afraid that somehow, that will make us die. We equate feeling good with life -- hence drugs, drunkenness, sex with the wrong people, and lots and lots of money -- and the lengths we go to, to get them.

God knows that we fear death, which is why He equates following His commandments to life:

"I call heaven and earth to witness against you today, that I have set before you life and death, blessing and curse. Therefore choose lilfe, that you and your offspring may live, loving the Lord your God, obeying His voice and holding fast to Him, for He is your life and length of days ...." (Deut. 30:19-20 ESV)

He also knows that we grieve our loss, and while the Enemy tries to make us think that's a silly, sissy, bad thing to do, God expects us to grieve -- and reminds us to turn to Him for comfort.

"He will swallow up death in victory; and the Lord God will wipe away tears from off all faces; and the rebuke of His people shall He take away from off all the earth: for the Lord hath spoken it." (Isaiah 25:8 KJV)

"I will ransom them from the power of the grave; I will redeem them from death: O death, I will be thy plagues; O grave, I will be thy destruction: repentance shall be hid from mine eyes." (Hosea 13:14)

God definitely hates Death, per se, although not the passing from one chapter in our eternal life into the next -- so long as it's spent with Him. Death is equated with cursing and the antidote is Jesus' Victory over the grave.

And He also knows that we're going to be sad when it happens, and keeps reminding us that He's the one we can turn to for comfort. We're also told that we are to pray for one another, stand with one another and bear one another up in times of sorrow. That became the message at our service that Saturday night: that that is all part of the fellowship we enjoy as Christians.

After all, we know that if two or more are gathered in Jesus' Name, He's there in their midst, so by simply standing with someone who's grieving -- not necessarily saying anything beyond praying for and with him or her -- we're calling in the Comforter Himself to wipe away the tears.