COLUMN: Grey Matters – Begin with the end in mind

“Teach us to number our days,

that we may gain a heart of wisdom.”

—Psalm 90:12

There are journeys we would never begin if we knew the weight they would ask us to carry.

Every May, a handful of us, nine or so of my buddies, stitched together by friendship and foolish courage bring our canoes into the wild. We call ourselves The Backcountry Adventurers. Some of us seasoned, some of us still learning how to navigate wind and water.

Two summers ago, we set our sights on the Mantario Canoe Route. Some had done the three-four day hike, so we thought it would be fun to do the canoe version. It was a journey of seventeen lakes, fifteen portages, four days of wind that slapped the water and our faces, bugs that hummed their own relentless liturgy, and a cold that crept into our bones. When we finally reached our vehicles, the cushioned seat of a Dodge Caravan never felt so good. Some of us said, “Never again.” Others, however, shrugged and said, “I could do that again.”

What was the difference? Preparation – the quiet work done long before the paddle touched the water. Some of us knew what was coming. We were engaged months before; preparing our bodies, minds and our gear for a great trip and for the worse possible changes in conditions. This trip was not something that was just happening to us, it was a process that demanded our participation and preparation.

My 90 year old mother, honest as ever, told me recently, “Gary, getting old isn’t for wimps.”

And she’s right. In the hospital halls where I serve, I see the courage it takes to endure a body that is slowly letting us down. Some meet it with grace, others with fear. The difference? You guessed it! Preparation – the quiet work done long before the vessel reaches its final shore.

In Canada, 90 percent of us will die with time, not suddenly like in a car accident. For most of us death unfolds physically, emotionally, socially, spiritually – as a process, not a one-time event. In traditional cultures, including the Mennonites of 16th century Europe, it is tragic if someone dies without process, without getting their ‘house in order.’

If death is a process, that means our participation is possible. Death is not just something that simply happens to us. God wants to walk with us through the valley of the shadow of death, just as he wants to walk with us through the green valley of life. God desires our engagement in death, just as he does in the rest of our life. A shaking hand in a steady hand. Finally, if death is a process that we participate in, it would be wise for us to prepare for it.

Death as process, participation and preparation. These are not grim words. They are hopeful ones. They remind us that life does not need to feel random, and death need not be feared. What we believe, think, and practice, we become. There are several good books and workshops on this topic to help with the preparation. May the passing of our days not make us fearful, but faithful – awake to the sacredness woven into every moment. For whether in life or in death, in sunlight or in shadow, we walk with a God who never leaves us.