Death defines us.

When you have a parent die, it is indescribable. You go through these roller coaster of emotions. At first, it's like a thrill ride, constantly up and down, and eventually, after a while, it all slows down. The ups and downs are still there, just simply more spaced out.

One thing that has occurred to throughout all of this is that I never knew what kind of man my father was until his passing. Over 500 (500!) people came to his funeral. It was standing room only. All because at some point or another, he had carried them to work, bought them a meal, been a good boss or a friendly neighbor...just an all around good ol' boy always willing to lend a hand. He also had no problem putting people in their place if they weren't doing right by others.  I might have been able to say I'm pretty sure my dad was a good man while he was alive, but now that he's gone, I can definitely say he was a good man.

And then it occurred to me. It was the same with Jesus. People could say while he was alive, "we're pretty sure He's the messiah" but after His death and resurrection, people could definitely say "HE IS the messiah."

Not saying my dad was like Jesus, I'm just drawing the parallel that it was only in death, each man's life got definition. And maybe that is what death is, that last judgement, that ending point that gives each of our lives meaning. We'll spend our whole lives trying to figure out who we are and who God wants us to be only to know at the moment of death.

That's really the first time I've contemplated God or something spiritual in the past three months.

I'm still upset and disappointed at Him. I've been known to be a little begrudging, and surely God knew something like this was going to make me a spiritual zombie. I know it can't be healthy, but work out your salvation with fear and trembling, right?