I Will Awake

We are coming up on a year from Bobby's death, and I remember that month before and the month after as one black shadow. It was a very trying time. Staying the night in a hotel in DC, expecting any moment to hear that he has died, only to hear him doing better in the morning. Then, back and forth, a little good news, some more bad news. He woke up! Now he is trending downwards, and we need to talk about removing life support. Talk about heavy. 

He was very close to me, and I was blessed to have so many good memories of him. My family would go over there at least weekly, to grab a meal and hang out. It might not have been right but Bobby and I would poke fun at people, politicians, friends--no one was really exempt. We would make fun of ourselves. He was very self-deprecating and he loved to make people laugh. Montana and I loved watching him laugh at Tim Hawkins videos; he loved whatever kind of humor that is called. John MacArthur and Dave Ramsey were his favorites, and I would frequently catch him watching their talks on his computer in the dining room. Bobby always had some idea or plan up his sleeve, he was always scheming with his competitive business mind. And I would confide in him and listen to his advice, taking mental notes all the while. He may not have admitted it, but we were close friends; after all, he only had one daughter and he let me marry her.

I remember sitting in that hotel room last year and crying like I hadn't cried in years. Coming to terms with how much I was going to miss him. He was a big loss. To this day it still feels acute. What a vacuum there remains in our lives. 

A few months ago I got to preach at the Mission on Psalm 17, with my point being the difference between people whose portion is in this world and those whose portion is God alone. It is such a curious conclusion, and though the original Hebrew is obscure, it seems as if the wicked are doing very well. "Their wombs are filled with treasure." They get wealth and are blessed with children and pass their wealth on to their children. They have the world as their portion and they get the world! It is interesting how that seems to work.

But David has no mind for these things. He is taken up with one big thing: "As for me, I shall behold your face in righteousness; when I awake, I shall be satisfied with your likeness." You can have all this world, I just want to behold the face of God. Though I cannot behold that face yet, one day I will awake. Then I will see and be satisfied. 

We talk about death as sleep. We say, "rest in peace." But David does not think of it in those terms. For him it is flipped: it will be after he awakes that he will see God's face, as if this life is the dim night and the next the day light, for God dwells there. It is not for this sleepy earth that David exerts his energies toward, it is an obsession with His likeness that captivates him and spurs him forward. 

Right now, we dwell in shadowlands by candlelight. We see manifestations of God's work and His presence, but even the brightest moments here are veiled. Even our greatest victories are tinged with sin, weakness, decay; even our deepest joys are mingled with sorrow. 

If only we could get around to the other side.

I think of my friend Bobby, and I grieve that things aren't the same. That I can't confide in him or make him laugh. But he is awake now beholding the likeness of His Savior. He knows life like we who are still asleep cannot comprehend. We still miss him, but as my pastor told me in the hospital, it would be wrong to begrudge him of the wonder at the Lord's right hand. He sees now what our eyes cannot see. He hears what our ears cannot hear. He is experiencing what our hearts could never conceive of: the bounty God has for those who love him.

Soon enough I will see it too.