Death…and Life

It was one of those e-mails I had to read twice. Like normal, I had skimmed it. Stopped. Realized it didn’t say when I thought it said. Read it…and then read it again. And still didn’t believe it.

People die every day. I ought to know. I worked at a hospice for 3 ½ years. Death (like taxes, as Mark Twain infamously said) is one of the sure things in life. But someone I know doesn’t die every day. And when this someone was only 57 years of age, in perfect health and had been running around church making sure fans were on, or the AC units, or the heat, or the windows were open like he always did every Sunday a mere two days ago…well, it was hard to believe the Lord had taken Mark Moyer home.

Mark Moyer, a deacon at our church, was one of the first people I met upon my arrival in Pittsburgh. Since he held the codes to the alarm system, he input one for Ed so we could get into the building the day of our wedding. I also remember him showing up on Friday when we were setting up the basement for the reception. He was picking up a few tables we weren’t using for his middle son’s high school graduation that same weekend. In the weeks to come, I would learn that Mr. Moyer was one of those people that is everyone doing everything – fighting with the finicky heating system of our old church building, recruiting men to get the new stove into the kitchen, mowing the lawn, trimming the bushes, shoveling the sidewalks. If there was a job to be done or maintenance that needed tending, Mr. Moyer was the man who knew all about it…and often fixed it himself.

Which his why I had to read the e-mail of his sudden death three times to understand it…and still not believe he was gone. On Tuesday evening, his wife (the wonderful, vivacious Becky who I would describe as a “Southern Belle” if she wasn’t a Yankee) arrived home and found him dead in a chair in their living room. There was nothing wrong with him, no illness, no heart attack. Simply, his work on earth was done and his Savior took him home to the words, “Well done, My good and faithful servant…enter into the joy of your Master.”

Mark Moyer leaves behind his lovely wife (whom everyone knew he loved) and three sons, ages 16 to early 20s…and more friends and family than you can count. There were 260 or so people at his funeral and many, many more at the two visitations. We waited in line for a half hour to give Becky a hug and the line was just as long when we left as it had been when we arrived. His death leaves a huge void in many lives, even our own. For as Becky said to me, he won’t be around to watch Emry grow up. A wonderfully godly man she will never know.

And yet a mere six hours after I read that e-mail I get a text that my new nephew has arrived. While one man dies, another little man is born. Death and life. Grief interlaced with joy and joy interlaced with pain. They go hand in hand. The Lord is the giver of them both. In that we can hope and rest.