We never know what to say. We feel awkward and uncomfortable.

Surrounded by the deepest grief, enveloped in the greatest pain, we hate this part of life more than any other experience.

And there’s the rub. “Death is as much a part of life as life itself.”

That’s a quote from my own mother when we were grieving the death of her mother, my maternal grandmother. How ironic that the end of life is part of life…but it’s not the part that feels good, not so much the part of life we enjoy.

For us, this past week was filled with death. In our family, we suffered the loss of four family members in the span of seven days:

  • Randy’s 83-year-old aunt
  • Nina’s 57-year-old cousin
  • The 27-year-old stepdaughter of Nina’s niece
  • Nina’s 89-year-old uncle.

You can imagine the elderly were not a surprise, but the two younger came as a shock. However, we grieve the loss of all four, all in the same week. The rapid-fire blows to our emotions seemed to settle on us like a dark cloud oppressing from all sides.

Add to that the fact that we are living in the middle of a pandemic and are limited by social distancing at a time when people need their people most of all. It’s been a strange experience, in that two of them will not be honored with any kind of a gathering until months later, when experts declare it’s clear to come together. For another, our family of over one hundred was limited to a total of ten at the graveside service, and those ten required to remain six feet apart. My uncle’s service was limited to my aunt and their immediate children. The grandchildren and any other attendees were required to remain in their cars, where they could access the service through their car radios. The burial was observed from inside their cars. No hugging. No verbal encouragement. Only visual presence.

It’s too much. Or is it?

That depends upon your perspective.

It feels like we are covered by a cloud that is dark and oppressive because it’s death. Their time with us is final and we can’t get them back. That’s how I was feeling way back in 1986 when my grandmother died—I didn’t get to say goodbye and I wanted her back with me. But my mom’s perspective on death took those feelings and totally flipped my perspective. When she termed death as part of life, it lessened the sting of finality.

Over the years, through experiences of many losses, I’ve come to a more eternal perspective about death. That’s how my mom flipped my thinking. She saw life as more than just what we live on this earth. She embraced an eternal perspective of life, which translates to an eternal perspective of dying. In eternity’s terms, physical death is like a stepping stone into eternal living. Death is a transition from mortality into eternity.

In this eternal perspective, that dark and oppressive cloud covering is backed up by glowing rays of eternity that shine out from behind the shadows and eventually surround our grief with hope—faith in future living that will never come to an end.

I’m not saying that with an eternal perspective, we don’t grieve. Grief is a very God-like, God-given emotion, meaning we are like God when we grieve over our losses. The study of God reveals many instances of God grieving, and even describes Him as being well-acquainted with grief (Isaiah 53:3, for one reference).

I find that when I cry out to God in my grief, He understands my hurting, and He consoles and comforts me during my grieving. Sometimes the consolation comes from someone I love, and other times I am consoled by reading and remembering the promises of God. Scripture defines God as The God of All Comfort (2 Corinthians 1:3) who consoles us in all our troubles. He is a God who understands how we hurt when we are forced to let go of those we love. Understanding our hurt, God sends comfort to His child in the ways that will most effectively speak to their grief in that moment. His is a supernatural way of loving that translates into peace of mind and the resting of our hearts.

It seems the only way to come to this eternal perspective is through a relationship with God, based on what is recorded in scripture about life with God. According to the Bible, each person gets to choose God’s way or their own way. That choice defines eternity for that person.

So every time I come face-to-face with death, I’m very sad in the deep loss of one I love. But when I know that loved one chose God’s way, I know that they have stepped into eternity with the Giver of Life, where their life will never again end.

It’s only natural to grieve the loss. But it’s supernatural to find peace and joy and comfort and hope simultaneously while grieving that loss.

When we look at life and view death through the eyes of God, living under the cloud cover of right here, right now is not permanently gray. Those rays of light, peeking out from behind, shine hope into our grief: the confident assurance that when it’s my turn to make that transition, eternity will be mine to share with those who stepped into it ahead of me.

After all, how good will it be to constantly live with God, the Giver of Life, whose every intention toward us is only love? How good will it be to never think of death again? How good to be living in Forever, where living the perfect life will be our only option? These are some of the ways God describes eternity with Him, following life here on earth.

Thinking of death takes me to spiritual places. How do you manage your thought processes during grief?