LIFE-GIVING HOPE
NOTE FROM BARNEY: Linda’s Celebration of Life will be Saturday, January 20 at 11:00 AM at Santa Rosa Christian Church, 1315 Pacific Avenue, Santa Rosa. Please mark your calendars. Please continue to pray for our family. Your prayers are empowering!
Sometimes we use the expression, “As silent as the grave.” But not so with the tomb of Jesus. It may have been quiet, but it was far from silent. When Jesus arose, he conquered death, and that tomb screamed, like a divine megaphone, “There is hope beyond the grave!” And that reality changes everything.
The empty tomb stands as an eternal reminder that God will never abandon us. In our worst moments, his living presence comforts us. The last recorded words of Jesus were, “I am with you always, even unto the end of the world.” (Matthew 28:20, KJV). That’s pretty emphatic.
Linda and I were married for fifty years before she slowly faded away from ovarian cancer. During those last months, words like “overwhelming, devastating, agonizing” passed through my lips, as I cried out to God. But one word I never uttered is “Hopeless.” Because I’m not.
During the darkest night of the soul, our Savior whispers, “I am with you, my child.” When your heart aches so badly, you’re afraid it might explode, he calms us with his peace that transcends understanding. When you think you can’t survive another minute, and honestly…you don’t really want to, he gives you the strength to continue living. When you bury your head in your pillow, and sob so much that no more tears will flow, he weeps with you.
On some days that’s been my story. But—I say it again—I have never felt hopeless or abandoned. I live in the certainty that I will see Linda again, along with other dear friends that have entered—not the land of the dead—but the land of the living. They’re experiencing more life than any of us have ever known. With excitement, I anticipate great adventures ahead with Linda and my friends. Nothing on earth could even remotely compare.
On the last night of her life, I sat by Linda’s bed, her emaciated body, barely clinging to life. I kissed her forehead, and said goodbye. But I actually didn’t say, “Goodbye.” It was, “See you later.” Because I will.
I long for that day when I will pass through the portal into eternity. Linda will be there to greet me at heaven’s gates and say, “Hello,” knowing that never again will we say “Goodbye.” More than you can imagine, that hope sustains me. It gives me joy and strength—and a reason to live another day.