Death.

My life has been about death the last few days.

My uncle's passing reminded me about my mum's own funeral.

Lessons in church were about death.

Got a newsletter about how bleak death can feel like. Sudden. Jarring. Endless.

Or from Public affairs.

Jesus proclaimed life after death. And at many funerals, they would mention how it's just a farewell but not a goodbye, that everyone waits to be reunited in heaven one day. I know my uncle is in a better place.

Death is stirring. It's true. It makes us reflect on our own lives.

Every death does, and we can't help it. There are many things to think about, the loss of a friend or family, memories we had, the path ahead without that person, about what death is, about that journey after death - what it's like. We can think about our own sin. We can think about our hardships and successes to be thankful for. We can think about what we are chasing, whether it's worth it.

I recall the time I sent my mum off. I believed that, it was just a temporary farewell. She too, was going to a better place. But you know, since then, I've always thought maybe it's her saying goodbye to me, forever. That I might be the one denied entry into the kingdom, never to see them again.

In the exploring of Christianity over the course of my life..

Being "born" Christian, or into a Christian family has its curse. We are brought into a value system so strong and righteous, it feels that every single fault we have Is our own, and a sin that we exacted from our own minds and our own hands. And those sins are unforgivable to many. Heavily judged upon. Because we know. Yet we choose to act. No matter the sins around us, we have chose to turn away from God when we were originally born to face him.

Over the decades of my life, I've seen people wear masks to keep up that righteousness. Some put in a lot of effort. And some fall into grace. Some fall away completely.

What if I were the one to fall away... What if my life plan, as much as I wanted it, was to venture away. Do I still go to heaven then? Can the sanctity of my childhood really protect me? Can my mum and other family in heaven reach out to help me?

I can't choose my life. As I say around the tea table with everyone else chatting away about life, I know the despondency I had in my heart. I keep an awfully lot of things to myself. Just like many others. I listened to the conversations and the many individual spirits there, just chatting and making their own merry - probably to shield themselves from the thoughts and carry on with life, and finding strength to run their race.

I never could carry on with life. People don't know that but I couldn't. My cousin said, he will. He knows he will. But I know I couldn't and I can't. And there began a tragedy.

To me, it's ok. I always tried my best. Cross my heart and swear to God I tried my best. But sometimes you're trapped under the rubble, gasping and there's nothing you can do but wait. People console you and tell you about hope, but to you it's a hope and a dream that you like them to have, but you can't own for yourself.

And one must die. Even before we talk about life. For we can talk about life till the cows come home, but death has to come first before we know whether we truly have life. The beauty of the gospel after we study it so long is that many times in life, our heart has to fail before we come to pass, but it is that failing heart that is judged, whether we can find a new life in Him. Unless you are Elijah and which I am also not worthy to be.

So, I said farewell to my uncle. Remembered my mum. And slowly trudged on in my pathetic life. I was surrounded by giants, kings and saints yesterday. Always like a fish out of water.

I hold on to a dream I had. Even when I'm gasping for breath. Cos at this point, no words will help because my mind is focused on keeping myself alive. Before people die, they always find that last spark to say goodbye. The time their heart beats fasten, their state of mind becomes more lucid, or their voice returns. I know I'm dying. Trapped under rubble or stranded or land, just conserving energy and waiting for my heart to slow, my lungs to clog or my mind to fail.

At this point. There's nothing I can do to save my life except trust that something I was told long ago might hold true. Death has lost its sting already, it's just numbness now. Between me and each of you, I'm the one lying here, waiting to decompose, waiting for my time. While you look like you're climbing places and heading closer to where God wants you to be. No one can console me because no one understands, except the man lying in the coffin. I'm lying flat and I can't get up. And in my heart I'm secretly glad, that you will make it even if I can't.