In memorium: Inconvenient Death

The sun is setting here, it’s dying rays glowing on my face. My living, breathing face. For I am still alive and I’m thinking of you, gone.
You weren’t a close friend, by any means. Our lives had long since gone separate ways. So grief would not be the correct description of the emotion churning within me. No, puzzlement comes closest to defining it. Feeling confused because I cannot understand or make sense of your death.
If you were here, in this still room watching the sunset with me I would ask about those last moments. You, in the small trailer, perhaps with your arms around the man you had at last found. Hearing the storm pounding, the pieces of debris hitting the walls harder than an angry man can throw. They say the sound of a tornado is like a freight train coming straight at you.
Did you hear the sound? Did you think, “This is it. The end.”?
Did you feel fear of judgment on poor decisions? I hope you made your peace with God.
Did you wonder at the inconvenience of it all? I mean, you had sacrificed some ideals to get what you wanted desperately. So much must have seemed like it was finally going your way. Even if you were doing things you might now regret.
Did you ask God, “Why now? When everything is finally starting to work out?”
My way. Perhaps therein lies the key. His timing puzzles me but that is because I see things my way and His ways are not my ways. Nothing is inconvenient when seen from His perspective. Even death.
Every life, every relationship is meaningful. I must accept the nature of the relationship today, rather than hope for a tomorrow that may never come.
Every day I have the choice to choose Him, or my own selfish desires. But my way only ends in death, yet still in His timing.
Every task He gives is important. Rather than wait for success and accolades that lie in a nebulous future, I must put my hand to the grindstone and serve with joy.
Every moment is an opportunity to see beauty. Merely a training ground for eternity.
What do you see?