Dear Death

Dear Death, 

Damn you. I am tired of you. I am close to snapping because of you. I am angry because of you. The thing is you don’t care. You don’t care about who you hurt, crush, and break. You are selfish, and you give nothing back. Instead, you take. You don’t care about age, potential, wealth, ethnicity, or religion. It does not matter to you if it is a beloved ninety-five-year-old grandfather who has lived through and fought in multiple wars. You don’t care if it is the tiniest of babies in the womb shortly after a couple discovers they’re expecting. You don’t care if it is a mother of four, you will steal her away from her family if you wish. You don’t care if it is a child who comes a few weeks too early, leaving the child with minutes to live. You don’t care if it is children in a school shooting. You. Don’t. Care. So, damn you. 

I will admit it. Today, it feels like you are winning. It feels like you are unstoppable, and that eventually, you will simply take everything and everyone. Some days it feels as if you are an enemy that cannot be defeated, that you are simply too much to overcome. Some days it feels like everything in life is futile, and that since death is the inevitable end for anyone and everyone, what’s the point? Why not just become Nihilists? Why care at all? So, Death, today I wanted to write you this letter. You have hurt too many people I love, and have taken too many people too soon. You have caused enough pain and grief. So today, I am frustrated and I am angry. So, damn you. 

I wanted to write you this letter to let you know that although it might seem like you are on the verge of a landslide victory. Although it seems as if you are the one thing in this world that can be avoided. Although it seems like you are unstoppable. I know of One that you could not contain. I know of One who could not be held in the clutches of your stone-cold grasp. I know of One who could not be stolen from this world. I know of One who rose and stepped out from the grave. His name is Jesus, the Christ, the One who conquered death. You see, Death, you will not always have your way. You will not always snatch our loved ones away from us. You will not always destroy beautiful lives. No. Soon, and I believe very soon, you will be swallowed up forever. You will be destroyed. You will be damned, and when you are, those who you have taken will also rise from their graves. For in Christ you cannot hold them either. All of the tears you have caused will be wiped away. All of the grief you have created will be turned to joy. All of the death you have caused will be turned to life. 

So, Death, when I say “damn you,” I mean it. I long for the day when you no longer plague creation. Until then, I will pray for your end and will look forward to Christ’s return. I am comforted with the fact that when He does, you will be damned. Forever. 


Someone longing for the Resurrection