I’d like to share with you something written by Robert Test, of the Cincinnati Post.
“The day will come when my body will lie upon a white sheet neatly tucked under four corners of the mattress located in a hospital busily occupied with the living and the dying.
And at a certain moment the doctor will determine that my brain has ceased to function, and that for all intents and purposes my life has stopped.
When that happens do not attempt to instill artificial life into my body by use of a machine, and don’t call this my “death bed”. Let it be called “the bed of life.” And let my body be taken from it to help others lead fuller lives.
Give my sight to a man who has never seen a sunrise, or a baby’s face, or love in the eyes of a woman. Give my heart to a person whose own heart has pain. Give my blood to a teenager pulled from the wreckage of his car, that he might live to see his grandchildren.
Give my kidneys to one who depends on a machine to exist from week to week. And take my bones, and every muscle and every fiber and every nerve in my body, and find a way to make a crippled child walk.
And explore every corner of my brain and take my cells if necessary, and let them grow so that some day a speechless boy will shout at the crack of a bat, and a deaf girl will hear the sound of rain.
Burn what is left and scatter the ashes to the winds to help the flowers grow. And if you must bury something, let it be my faults, my weaknesses, my prejudices.
Give my sins to the devil, give my soul to God. And if, by chance, you wish to remember me, do it with a kind deed, or a word to someone who needs you. And if you do all I ask, I will live forever.”
WOW.
Lately, I’ve been reflecting on this simple truth: we live every day for something.
Sure, some will claim they need nothing and no one. That rugged self-sufficiency is a badge of honor in American culture. But let’s be honest—that’s a lie of the devil. It’s a counterfeit version of life. Because the truth is, we were never meant to do this alone. We need each other.
Whether we’re living or dying, we’re always leaving something behind. It’s either life-giving… or it slowly withers and decays.
Easter is a holy reminder that we have choices. (Yes—did a question mark pop up in your head just then?)
Choices.
We’re free because the Son of God set us free. Free even to sin. Free to be self-serving. But Easter draws a bold line in the sand. Because of Jesus, every choice now has eternal weight. And every life heads in one of two directions: toward birth, or toward death.
You didn’t choose to be born. But you do choose what happens after you die. Jesus said, “I am the resurrection and the life, even though the body dies, yet will the spirit live.“
No supplement, defibrillator, or good doctor can extend your life forever. Our bodies will wear out. That’s inevitable. But those who choose Jesus? They’ll rise. Following him to leave life behind wherever we go.
And until that day—my choice is this: to follow Jesus and leave life wherever I’ve been. To point people in the direction of eternal life.
Because of Easter, I want my life to echo eternity.
Poet Robert Test gets it. Live life. But, live until you meet God face to face. He’s awaiting that day. That’s what Easter invites us into. Not just existence, but life… real life.
And for those who walk the resurrection path, a voice will call out in the end:
