Saying goodbye when you don't want to, but you need to:
Saying goodbye to someone we love is never an easy thing to do; no matter how needed that goodbye may be. Our bodies are not meant to dwell here on Earth forever; nor is the paltry degree of intimacy we may share here anything more than a shadow of of eternity.

Physical life and the intimacies we know here are amazing, joy-filled, incredibly fulfilling; and are to be cherished, nourished, protected, and preserved with all of our might. They are, however, secondary to the eternal life and the intimacies we will know if we live faithfully to God and His Way while here on Earth. What wonderful, elegant, simple, comforting phrases these are! Yet how painfully poignant when we are faced with the required reality of separation that must occur in order for this to be fulfilled. How emotionallly wrenching are the decisions that face us today in the process of that fulfillment.

Consider, for a moment, the life of an unborn infant. It really is pretty cushy - no worries about food, waste elimination, what to wear, unkind remarks, thermostat settings, thirst, falls, scrapes, etc. One might even describe it as idyllic, if somewhat boring, although the knowledge of any alternative would not be present. It even appears that this may be the way infants feel, because they rarely, if ever, enter into the real world environment for which they were designed expressing happiness about the change. It seems as if from the very inception of life that we humans resist change, if not completely fear it.

Yet what a tragedy it would be (indeed is) if the infants first priority were honored and that change did not take place. The joys, pains, exhilaration of life with all of its experiences would never be known. Indeed, we grieve for what did not occur when an unborn infant is aborted or still-born; never experiencing the pain, shock, and fear of birth.

If we truly believe in the "hope that lies within us"; then the Christian's grief must really be based on the experiences and intimacies that the living will not experience; for the dead have simply gone through the birthing procedure of "homo in excelsis", and are now experiencing joys and intimacies that we can hardly imagine.

That said; it is perfectly all right to grieve for our - the living's - loss of the present intimacies that occurs when we lose a loved one. It is a process that we may even need to go through for own sake; but we should recognize it as just that. Our loved one's earthly pains are over. It is a time to let our faith shine and be an example to the unbeliever.

What if our loved one did not know Christ? It is a time to recognize that God is God; and only He is able to save or condemn. It is not a time for personal recriminations - Did I say enough? Was I a good example? Should I have tried harder to convince them of their eternal worth. NONE OF US CAN SAVE OR CONDEMN ANOTHER SOUL!!!! We can only teach and "live like a believer." We can and must always be prepared to teach; and we can and must always try to live as an example of Christ to not only our loved one, but to all with whom we have contact. If we have not done this, then the death of a loved one can be seen as God's call to repentance and to Godly sorrow for negligence. If it does not trigger this repentance; then an entirely different reason to grieve exists.

Attendant with the end stages of life are often terrible decisions regarding the care of terminally ill loved ones. I can only offer opinions supported by observations.
1) Futile care is arrogant, selfish, and serves the living instead of the dying, and prolongs the suffering and delays the eternal reward of our loved one. I realize that these are harsh sounding words; but assuring that "Granny gets every possible treatment to prolong her life" when she has heart failure, kidney failure, liver failure, rheumatoid arthritis, does not recognize her care-giver, much less any of her family members- is not a sentiment of a loving, caring person; but is the sentiment of someone who futily is trying to prove to themselves and to those around them their love, regardless of the impact and suffering of the subject loved one.

Eighty percent of our health care dollars are spent in the last six months of life - to what end? It is easy to understand the desire to prolong life for a young parent or spouse; but why prolong the suffering of the tired, the broken, the worn-out body that has served God so well?

NOTE: This is not in any way to be construed as a justification for deliberately terminating the life of anyone - it is simply saying that deliberate prolongation when no significant hope of recovery exists is fully unwarranted. The termination of life support should only be contemplated when it is truly in the best interests of the person for whom the termination is contemplated; and the decision should never be made by one who be a beneficiary in the event of the pending death.

The right sad thing is to be prepared to make the hard decisions that broken, worn-out bodies are not meant to have a prolonged, painful existence - that death, while not to be sought out, is not to be feared but welcomed. Of course, this means that our faith must be nourished, lived, and shared with our loved ones and friends. It means recognizing that our sadness is for ourself - that no matter what the experiences "missed out on" by a young loved one's death; God has much greater experiences laid up for them beyond our imagining.

Unfortunately, the "real" right sad thing is to recognize that while we may teach and be prepared to do so, some of those we love will not choose God and eternal life. We may grieve for their choice; but we should always recognize that we must not let Satan quench our lamp by not joyously proclaiming life for those who heed His call, or by grieving selfishly for the separation we will know in eternity from such a loved one. God is able to heal even that deep a wound.