Viewing Death as a Christian

Why I have been absent. A few weeks ago, my mother passed away, (June 22, 2026) and since then, death has no longer felt like a distant idea or a theological concept—it has become deeply personal. It has entered my life in a way that has changed how I read Scripture, how I pray, and how I think about eternity.

I have always believed what the Bible says about death, but now I feel it.

There is a weight to loss that words cannot fully carry. The quiet moments feel different. The absence is real. And yet, even in the middle of that grief, I am reminded that Scripture never asks me to pretend that death is easy. Jesus Himself wept (John 11:35), and that alone gives me permission to grieve honestly.

Death is still an enemy. The Bible calls it “the last enemy that shall be destroyed” (1 Corinthians 15:26). It separates, it wounds, and it reminds us that this world is not as it should be. When I think about my mother, I feel that separation deeply.

But as a Christian, I cannot stop there.

Because just as real as death is, so is the promise of life. The same chapter that calls death an enemy also declares victory over it: “O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?” (1 Corinthians 15:55). That victory is not something I have to earn or wonder about—it is secured in Jesus Christ.

So while I grieve my mother, I do not grieve without hope.

I hold onto the promise that “to be absent from the body [is] to be present with the Lord” (2 Corinthians 5:8). And that truth has become more than a verse to me—it has become an anchor. My mother is no longer suffering, no longer bound by this broken world. She is in the presence of the Lord.

And not only that—she is not alone.

There is a deep comfort in knowing that she is now with my father and my sister in glory. The separation I feel now is temporary. What feels like an ending is, in Christ, only a pause before reunion. Scripture reminds me that this life is not the final chapter. “For if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so them also which sleep in Jesus will God bring with him” (1 Thessalonians 4:14).

That promise reshapes my grief.

I still miss her. I still feel the ache of her absence in everyday moments—the things I wish I could say, the conversations I wish we could still have. Grief does not disappear just because I have faith. But faith gives my grief a foundation. It keeps me from falling into despair.

Because I know this is not goodbye forever.

One day, because of Christ, death itself will be undone. “And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying” (Revelation 21:4). That is not just a distant hope—it is a promised reality.

Until then, I live in the tension.

I grieve because I loved my mother deeply. And I hope because I trust Christ completely.

And somehow, by God’s grace, those two things can exist together.

Growing in Grace: Exploring the Parables of Jesus