Funerals, or “celebrations of life,” as they sometimes are called, serve as stark reminders — especially for people of certain advancing age groups, such as mine — of our own mortality.
For all of our differences as human beings — and they are innumerable — we all share a singular journey that takes us from the cradle to the grave.
Death is inevitable except in case of rapture, when, according to the Bible, Christians living on Earth at the time Jesus returns in the clouds will be lifted up and transported to Heaven.
The saved of God who have died will be awakened from their slumber to join in the ascension from this world to the next, and “so shall we ever be with the Lord,” notes 1 Thessalonians 4:17.
After salvation, the greatest promise for believers is that after completing our time here, we will be promoted to a place where there is life everlasting and no hint of sadness.
Revelation 21:4 says, “And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes, and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain; for the former things are passed away.”
As I grow older, and as more loved ones and friends pass from this life, I am comforted by those words and others like them — expressions that offer hope, through faith, that some day we will reunite with our loved ones and friends and will enjoy their company once again.
The very recent deaths of two of Krista’s first cousins, both 50 years young and sudden victims of COVID-19 complications, have brought these thoughts to the forefront of my mind. They died three weeks apart.
Daniel Sossaman is the latest to cross over Jordan, earning his wings this past Sunday.
I knew Daniel many years before I discovered my now wife of almost three-and-a-half decades, the former Krista Sossaman.
When Daniel and I were young children, he and his mom, and my parents and I, attended the same church, which meant coming together for Sunday morning and Sunday night services, Wednesday night services, revivals — they lasted at least five days, and often six, back then — gospel singings, youth activities, and the list goes on.
After Krista and I married in 1987, I saw Daniel even more, because he and his family, and Krista and hers, lived on adjoining hilltops. Naturally, we all attended a lot of the same family get-togethers.
To Krista and her four siblings, Daniel was more like a brother than a cousin. They grew up together.
As happens over time, the children grew up, got married and moved off. They still saw each other, but not as often.
I think the last time I saw Daniel was May 2021, during visitation for his father, who also died of COVID factors.
What a terrible burden for his mother to bear, especially since Daniel was an only child.
But, like Daniel, who was an all-around great person possessing many fine character traits, his mother believes.
I cannot imagine not believing in life hereafter.
1 Corinthians 15:19 tells us, “If in this life only we have hope in Christ, we are of all men most miserable.”
