It
wasn’t
my first time dealing with death and it would not be my last.
The
first
time happened when I, as a newly ordained minister, and was sent to do a
hospital visitation. The plan was that I go and visit with an elderly church member
and pray with and for her—but when I arrived, I was directed by hospital staff
to the basement because my parishioner was downstairs “donating.”
My
first time as a cop was a trip to the morgue. In this room known as the fridge, which was the size of a small
apartment, had bodies stacked like cord-wood along three of the four walls from
the floor to just shy of the ceiling. This was to be my first autopsy.
While
working the streets, I have seen many more bodies in death since those early
first days; some a result of violent confrontations, some due to natural
causes, and others at their own hands. The
common denominator? They were all dead.
As
a cop, I had to be distant…hold myself back so I could study
the event from an objective perspective. As a minister, I have to get close; I
need to lower my walls so that I can help the church member get through the
difficulty of their time of loss.
So
whether
as a cop or a preacher death has often crossed my path. In one vein, I follow
the directive of the state and city codebook; while with the other I follow the
leading of scripture and the Spirit of God.
The
point? We all die—the good guys, bad guys, and the
indifferent. So if we all have to die, the question really becomes not how we
shall expire, but rather, how shall we live. Think about it….Just saying.
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