Tall or short. Fat or skinny. Rich or poor. Black or white. Old or young. Popular or unknown. It really doesn’t matter. Death doesn’t care about any of these things. When it shows up, it’s blind to all of these peripheral matters.

Over the past couple of weeks I’ve been in the presence of death more than I really care to be. From responding to emergency calls as a chaplain with the Sheriff’s office to pastoral care at life’s end for members of the church I serve, I’ve stood toe to toe with death the past two weeks on more than one occasion.

Death doesn’t care what time of day it arrives or who it comes to claim. It just shows up when the time has come. Some are prepared for it whatever that means. While others are totally blindsided by its presence on the doorstep.

One of the calls I received was a total shock to the family while the other was somewhat predicted. One was devastating and heartbreaking, while the other was filled with hope and joy for what was to come. One was calm and peaceful while the other was anything but peaceful. One was young and the other was a life well lived.

The two scenarios couldn’t be much different actually! But they still had something in common. Death came knocking and death seemingly won, at least for the moment.

In life we try to do everything we possibly can to prepare for every possible scenario. We squirrel money away for retirement. We stockpile food for a catastrophe. We have security systems to keep us safe. We even buy life insurance in the event we can’t outrun death when it does show up.

We try so very hard to control the outcome of our actions. We diet and exercise. We get good sleep and have mindfulness times throughout our week. We take vitamins or use those voodoo oils (yeah I said that for some friends but I really mean those essential oil things).

We can be healthy in every aspect of life medically speaking but when death knocks sometimes there’s nothing you can do to stop it. And it really doesn’t care.

The most recent couple of times death has come knocking it hasn’t even been during daylight hours. It wasn’t in the middle of the day when I could break away. It was overnight and interrupted sleep. Death just doesn’t care who it impacts or when or where.

Death is blind, but we don’t have to be. The most recent death I experienced was for a woman who lived a very long life. She died at 104 years old. Just a few months shy of 105 actually! And while death at any age or time really stings, she was ready. She wasn’t blind to death even though it was blind to her.

She was ready, but what does that even mean? You don’t pack a bag to get ready to die. You don’t typically put it in your day planner. But she was ready. She prepared for this day for most of her life. She did it by knowing what death meant for her.

She was a church person, as am I. She knew that death was never meant to be part of her story. But she also knew that since death was one day going to come and find her, she needed to arm herself with the only thing proven to beat death. What beats death? What beats a blind and indiscriminate killer of all?

She knew the only thing she could arm herself with was the promise of the one who died willingly and rose powerfully to give us hope unceasingly. She would always say that her life was mostly good and that the only way life could be fully good was when she was with Jesus. She knew that Jesus was her death defeater. So now she’s not just mostly good. She’s more than mostly good. And I bet she even gave death a little sassy grin because she knew what death forgot. In Jesus, life always wins and that’s more than mostly good!