SATURDAY EDITORIAL

How Should I Die

By Norman Wagoner
(Source: ChristArt.com)

Yes I was born a healthy babe,
And raised up normal too.
I had no thought of death in mind,
As to a boy I grew.

My mind does not real well recall,
The day I finally knew.
That folks don't just keep livin' on,
When way too old they grew.

I do suspect that timing was,
Way somewhere back in time.
As I watched my toy soldiers die,
In front of enemy lines.

I learned the game, as most boys do,
To play the game of "war".
It mattered not the weapon used;
A gun, a knife, a sword.

The object was to crawl in stealth,
And hide and wait some time.
To let your enemy come past,
Then attack them from behind.

The battle part was very short,
A stab, a gouge, a shot.
The one who lost the battle,
Was to "die" upon the spot.

We'd grab our chests and stumble down,
Throw guns and arms in air.
We'd make a face and then a sound,
And "die" with icy stares.

But thinking back on those grand days,
I just do not recall.
That my mind ever thought on how,
To really die at all.

I don't know how it is for girls,
Which seems so odd to me.
You'd think I'd picked up something,
After all these years with three.

But for myself, the thoughts are grand.
To die with dignity!
I think it is my ego, and
The pride of life in me.

I think it is the dream of men,
At least that we die well.
And not to cry out, scratch and scream,
As though bound straight for hell.

I think the dream is facing death,
With calm and cool control.
And staring death straight in the eye,
Like masters of our souls.

But I think this is just a dream,
And not reality.
For I will not be in control,
When death's wave comes for me.

What then is it that I should do?
What steps are there to follow?
So when death's finger points at me,
My last breath won't be hollow.

It won't be wealth that I posses,
And not my 'Franklin Planner'.
It's not my pet, my car, my house,
My kindness or good manners.

It won't be found in friend or foe,
Or loving family.
It's only in the hand of CHRIST,
That reaches out for me.

He is the Way, the Only Way,
That leads from here to there.
Allowing us to part this earth,
With peace, with love, with care.

So when time comes to end my life,
In silence, peace or pain.
I'll focus on my Savior's face,
And my reward to gain.

And as ol' death comes near for me,
His arms of ice and cold.
I want to shake his hand, then say,
'Goodbye, I've got to go.'

And turn and take my Savior's hand,
That's waiting there for me.
With no more pain, to die is gain,
With Christ, eternally!