Dead.

I was driving home from a friend’s apartment tonight, heading northbound on US-75. Not an ideal time to travel, past midnight on a Friday night on a highway where many accidents occur. I was trying to decide if I wanted to take a toll road home but had just missed my chance to take the cheap way home anyway. As soon as I cursed my indecisiveness, I looked up ahead and noticed a strange traffic jam.

Like I mentioned, there are always accidents on this highway and seemingly moreso during the weekend nights. But as I got closer to the beginning of the jam, I noticed a lot of cars parked on the highway shoulders with their emergency lights on. There was no wreckage. But there were people standing in the middle of US-75.

There were no cops yet, so whatever happened just occurred. A man raised his arms as to signal that we needed to pick any lane, just not the lane they were standing in. I very slowly chose the right lane as the cars around me were full of confusion as well. Naturally, rubbernecking occurred and the traffic was going so slow I decided that I would turn my head to see what was going on just a few feet away from me.

Behind the group of people was a man, laying on the ground. He was on his back, arms sprawled straight out, blood on his face and balding head. His plaid shirt was unbuttoned and I could see his white undershirt. Just white. He was wearing some dark-colored jeans and his boots stuck straight up. There was friction in my soul and my body tensed up. Although I had never seen death before, I knew this man was dead.

I drove on, slowly and carefully as every car seemed to soak it in. It wasn’t until a mile out when my brain put two and two together. There was no wreckage. But the accident was at the intersection of US-75 and I-635, the “High Five,” with five towering overpasses that reach twelve stories high.

He had jumped.

I thought about the odds of me crossing paths with this dead man and why I had those few seconds to gawk at his unmoving body. And it’s strange, I found myself going through a similar process Anne posted last month on flowerdust.net. Why did he jump? What made life so unbearable that he could find no way out? Did he pick out those clothes knowing he would die in them? Did no one know him, did no one think this would happen? Could it have been prevented?

The man looked similar to a coworker of mine so I started to dig more. Do I know someone who might do this? How have I treated him or her? Does my mouth overflow with words of love and hope, or selfishness and darkness?

It was a dark drive home and now I have to try and sleep with this man in my thoughts. As much as I want to completely forget him, I hope I don’t.

Last Friday.

I attended a funeral for a man I didn’t know. A man I had forgotten I had met once and only spent two minutes with. A man I didn’t hear much about and only knew my name and association. One step away from being a total stranger. But as the service went on, I felt like I knew this man intimately. And I wept. I wept not only for his mortal death, but I wept because I was joyful. And maybe a little jealous. This man, who once lived a life for Christ could now live a life with Christ. Forever. Who wouldn’t be happy for him and feel a slight bit of jealousy about that!

My heart hasn’t been the same after this weekend. My flesh hasn’t exactly mirrored what my heart started to (re)desire, but my heart desires Christ as its King. I felt a strong desire to have God know my heart and so badly to hear Him say, “Nina, you are after my heart just as much as I’ve been after you.”

Out of the many, many things I could say about last Friday, I won’t forget how the Golden Rule (”Do unto others as you would have them do unto you”) was rephrased.

Love God first.

Love others second.

And if there’s anything else left, love yourself.

Should I stay or should I go now?

While waiting for a client to show up, I pulled out my handy dandy work phone equipped with the world wide web. My confession: I haven’t picked up the Bible in a few months. I’ve been reading The Ragamuffin Gospel and Blue Like Jazz every now and again, but never from the source of it all. So today I broke the separation.

I didn’t know what to read and the phone’s screen is so tiny, but Philippians just seemed to call my name. Impatient and without my stylus, I just decided to start at the beginning. Chapter 1. So I’m reading and reading and am reminded about how much Paul was an amazing character. I mean, who else is happy that he is in chains for Christ? “Hey guys! I cannot see my family, I’ve got these cuffs on my arms, and I have no idea when I will get out of this place. But I have Jesus. And I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.” Oh, that crazy Paul.

But the passage that grabbed a hold of me was Philippians 1:21-26.

For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain. If I am to go on living in the body, this will mean fruitful labor for me. Yet what shall I choose? I do not know! I am torn between the two: I desire to depart and be with Christ, which is better by far; but it is more necessary for you that I remain in the body. Convinced of this, I know that I will remain, and I will continue with all of you for your progress and joy in the faith, so that through my being with you again your boasting in Christ Jesus will abound on account of me.

I don’t know why I’ve never really paid attention to those verses before, maybe so I could appreciate them now, but what Christian has never said, “I wish I could just die right now and go to Heaven and be with the Lord. Away from sin, away from pain, away from fear…” But this Paul guy. He’s madwhack. He knows to be in Heaven is “better by far,” but he chooses to stick around and continue with his “fruitful labor.” Why? Because He loves Christ so much, Paul wants to let everyone - and I mean everyone - know about his love for the Lord and the Lord’s love for him. No matter the cost.

I sometimes wonder why I came out of my car wreck laughing instead of compacted with the rest of my Mustang. And honestly, there are few times that I wish I was compacted. At that point in my life, all was good, me and God were pretty tight, I had amazing sisters in Christ that built me up, and I could’ve ended on a good note. But here I am. Troubled little Nina in a little valley wanting desperately to be on top of the hill again, wanting desperately to take my friends up with me too…

I guess in a way, I feel tied down in chains. But I can’t let that stop me from loving God and spreading the Truth.