I Just Want to be with Jesus, but I’m Scared

I could see for miles across the Indiana countryside from her third-floor room. I thought, “This place would be nice if it weren’t so awful.” There is tasteful artwork on the wall. It’s abstract and colorful but not tacky like a hotel room trying too hard to be fancy. The dark wood trim is classy and calming. Take away the pumps and monitors, the pale vinyl flooring, and the beds with wheels, and this would be nice. But she coughed and spat up again, bringing me back to how awful this place can be.

“I just want to be with Jesus, but I’m scared,” she said in just above a whisper.

It hurt to speak. She had to take the bi-pap mask from her mouth and nose so I could hear. But without it, her oxygen levels dropped quickly. She coughed and spit up into the tray in front of her. “I just want to be with Jesus, but I’m scared,” she whispered again before replacing her mask. This time her words were even more labored. 

I hate cancer. 

I stayed a while with her and her husband. We prayed and cried together. It was beautiful and holy and terrible. I came back again a few hours later. The rest of her family gathered around her bed. Again we prayed and cried, and I looked at her and her beloved family and acknowledged their hurt.

A few hours later, she died.

I keep thinking about her words. “I just want to be with Jesus, but I’m scared.” Sometimes, that’s my struggle too.

“Being with Jesus” was her way of talking about going to heaven when she died. I’m not expecting (or wanting) that to happen to me anytime soon. But I do think a lot about being with Jesus.

Before he died, Jesus promised, “I will be with you until the very end of the age.” That’s what I want. I want to be with the one who promises to be with me because I know Jesus to be loving and good. I know Jesus to be healing and holy. I know Jesus to bring peace and comfort, provision and protection. I know Jesus to be the embodiment of the love that made the world.

So why am I scared?
Why do I still sometimes gasp for faith, life, and breath?

Maybe it’s because I have so many questions. Perhaps I’ve seen too much. There’s so much I can never unsee; it eats away at my soul. It’s scary to be constantly aware of how razor-thin the edge is between life and death. It’s terrifying to know that everything can change in an unpredictable instant. Sometimes the fear gets the best of me: my mind, body, and soul trembles. 

I’m scared, but I want to be with Jesus. 

I’m afraid, AND I am with Jesus. 

Jesus is with me.

Jesus is always with me, just as he promised.

My lungs fill with oxygen. I can breathe again. My muscles and mind still ache, but I can feel them start to ease as fear loosens its grip in the presence of perfect peace. 

“I will be with you until the very end of the age.”