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Through a maze of interwoven streets

He runs helter skelter

Screaming & shouting

A frantic look on his face

Confusion and a sense of desolation.

He has lost something precious!

His source of power and strength…

 

Ohhh, his head spins! Its scary that he cannot remember where he dropped it!

Or did he drop it? Was it taken from him?

Was there a pick pocket?

No! It couldn’t be, he wore it close to his heart

Covered by his long flowing robes

Covered still by the leather hide he wore

The one full of pockets where he hid his worldly possessions from the Marauders that run rampage in the region

 

He had run for hours? Or was it days?

People now whispered as he ran past

The same people who used to wail in fear at the sight of him

They now call him a mad man

Some of them even sniggered!

“What? Wait till I get my power back” he thought

“I will shoooowwww them!” he said as he continued running

Running, looking under rocks, in the skies, following the moon

In a continuous and never ending search

Ever searching

Never finding…

 

Death! Death has lost its sting

It runs helter skelter, searching…

Searching through cancer

Searching through Malaria

Searching through disease

Searching through disaster

Searching in pain and heart ache

Searching in terrorism… Maybe if it shocked them out of life, with sudden painful blasts

maybe he’ll find it

Death has lost its sting…

 

Never to be found, used or have effect again!

He doesn’t know yet

He won’t know for a long long time

He will keep searching

The crazy man who has lost something

Growing ever more desperate

Growing ever more frantic

Using more and more shocking methods in a bid to  find it!

But he won’t…

 

One day, when I can write again

I will tell you why

Why he will never find his sting again!

But rest easy thou beloved…

And believe me when I say “not only has death lost its sting, it has lost it completely.”

 

 

 

 

Post Script:

I wrote this on the 28th of October, I lost an Aunt-in-Law who was totally loved by all the children in the family. As we sat in church and paid our last respects and committed her soul to the Lord, there were many tears but also many smiles, many whispered jokes about Aunty Ade and how apparently vivacious and dramatic she was. I surveyed the faces around and thought, “wow, how differently we’ll grieve if we didn’t have God! Thank God for God! Thank God for the Cross. Thank God that it all doesn’t end here. That death in this realm is a birth or awakening in another realm! So yes, even when we cry and miss them and want our loved ones here, we are comforted, we know that to die in Christ is to live forever! It doesn’t end here.” And I almost laughed out loud in Church “hahaha” I thought, “death has lost its sting! Thank God for Christ and the Cross!”

Photo credit: Grim Reaper Outfit, http://www.Pinterest.com

 

 

 

 

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