Quiet reflections and what lies ahead

“You can't take it with you” they say. That's true only so far. An actor who died recently said he did not believe in any kind of afterlife. His thought was that when life is done, it's done, and there is nothing more. I guess the light just blinks off.

For those who do believe there is more, it is obvious that our “stuff” is going to still be sitting here when we are not. But what about the intangibles. I've been thinking back to a sunny summer late afternoon in Alaska, along Cook Inlet. From the haze on the water, a commercial fishing trawler suddenly appeared. And then another. And another. Their day was done. They were bringing in their catch.

One by one, the vessels made their way to the mouth of the Kasilof River, where a tender waited upstream to receive their salmon. That rousing song played in my mind, When The Saints Come Marching In.” I saw myself, how it might be, bringing in my catch.

Jesus makes a clear statement that I come to the Heavenly Father through Him. So, I see myself bringing who I have become in Him. What I have done with what He has given me. What fruit He has caused me to grow in the lives of others. I am not coming empty-handed.

I know some people who had a friend who was comatose at the end of his days, and in his final moment suddenly sat up and said, “Unbelievable!” at what he saw. How much I wish others could return and tell me. Jesus' message was He did come from heaven — and He could, and did, tell about it.

The Apostle Paul said whether in a vision or an actual visit, that he was “caught up into Paradise and heard inexpressible words.” Jesus told the repentant thief on the cross, “Today you will be with Me in Paradise.” I can believe these accounts or not. If I do, then I have the assurance of Paradise as not something made up but a real place with real people.

Jesus couldn't have been clearer in His, “Everyone who lives and believes in Me will never die.” His breath gives life when mine is gone. I don't just blink out. When Jesus brought resurrection, He fulfilled what was written of Him centuries before, “He will swallow up death for all time.”

What a word picture! When death is swallowed by life, who wins? There is only one victor.

Until then I'm gone fishing. I have a catch to bring in. 

Carol Shirk Knapp is the author of "The Preacher's Kid" column.