Baptized on death row

I recently learned that it takes years for a star’s light to reach the human eye. As such, some of the starry night lights we see may very well be coming from stars that have ceased to exist – dead stars. This thought reminded me of an exchange I had not too long ago with a dear friend.

“How do you wish to be remembered?” she asked.

My thoughts dipped into the mortality of her question: unknown waters that, for some reason, I do not fear. “Remembered? I’m still working on living. Don’t rush me!” I teased. My friend sipped her coffee, patiently waiting for me to answer. “I don’t wish to be remembered,” I said softly.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“This is not the first time I’ve given thought to this question. I don’t have a craving for others to remember my name or deeds. I don’t need to be given a headstone upon my death; rather, dusting my ashes upon a field of haystacks or yellow wildflowers will suffice. If any part of me is to be remembered, I desire it to be the part that points to Jesus. I want Jesus to be thought of more because a simple, sinful girl dedicated her life to be light for Him.”

My friend smiled. “I figured you would say something like that. If it makes you feel any better, you’re succeeding in life in how you wish to be remembered in death.”

Her words deeply impacted me. Most days, I fall woefully short of my calling. On other days, I feel like an army of warrior angels is clearing the path for me to follow. I can almost feel the ground shake upon their arrival. Perhaps these warriors are always present, and it is my focus that fluctuates from day to day. Just the thought of this possibility makes me feel too small to carry the calling I’ve been given. Then I realize that is the point, right? To be given a calling that can only be accomplished with God at the helm. To succeed outside His guidance would be a temporal success that dies with my extinction.

Earthly successes have short memories. We can invest our best hours in a job, leave, and become forgotten in a matter of weeks. Same with some relationships. Camaraderie is often tethered to convenience. Not all bonds have lasting power. Most, in fact, fade. This is normal, yet there is still a grieving process that comes with being expendable. The healthiest option would be to recognize feelings, let go of judgment, allow thoughts and emotions to visit, investigate their roots and what is needed in the present moment, and nurture oneself with compassion and patience. This is a mindfulness exercise called RAIN (Recognize, Allow, Investigate, Nurture), and it is effective when done with intentionality.

Sometimes we need to hold space for uncomfortable reactions: grief, anger, and disappointment. Becoming familiar with our vulnerabilities allows us to evaluate the lasting power of our longings. Will the core of our purpose outlive our positions and relationships? Will the source of our light outlast our life?

“I feel like I’m living a new life with each day,” my friend said.

“Why do you say this?” I asked.

“Because each day I make a conscious choice to follow God more than myself. I ask God to allow me to receive the blessing of His daily portion of grace and love. That’s all and enough. Hard to explain.”

“I think I get it more than you know. You’re being daily baptized on death row,” I said.

“Wow, that’s intense and correct all at the same time. I do make a daily choice to die to self.”

“You’re not any different than how you see me,” I said. “You’re also succeeding in life in how you wish to be remembered in death.”

My friend smiled. “Perhaps you’re right. That’s humbling. I’ve never thought of myself as much of a success.”

“I beg to differ. Ultimate victory is given to the humble. Those who find their wisdom in the world may experience triumph, but their success story will end with their final breath. Yet those who live for the Lord will live beyond their body’s expiration date. Their labor will be like the star that the human eye sees long after they’ve ascended to heaven.”

“Baptized on death row,” she whispered. “I cannot think of a better daily pursuit. I suppose that is where the greatest opportunities exist… on the other side of self… on paths hidden by the shrubbery of doubt.”

I left my dear friend with a smile that originated from my soul. Friend, do not delay in living into your purpose. Lean into the One who created the stars. Because of Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection, death cannot hold you. Live as one who will eternally shine His light.