MY FIRST ENCOUNTER WITH DEATH came at the age of twelve. I was at my grandparent's farm, picking raspberries, when my grandmother informed me that my Uncle Kermit had been killed in a terrible automobile crash on his way home from work. She was white as a ghost and I could tell she had been crying. She asked me to go into the field and tell grandpa to come at once.

In those days it was a common thing to lay the body out at home. Since Uncle Kermit lived with his parents at that time, his remians were brought to the farm and placed in his upstairs bedroom. That meant that I would be sleeping right in the next room. It was a creepy experience for a pre-teen. Grandma could sense that I was uncomfortable and confused, so she tried her best to explain the rationale for all of this. And you know what? I accepted her explanation because I had so much respect and admiration for her.

My bed was positioned in such a manner that I could see the casket from where I slept. When I finally did fall off to sleep, I entered into the netherworld of nightmares. I was oh so glad to awaken to the sound of my grandmother's voice as she called out, "Breakfast is ready! How many pancakes do you want?" That was music to my ears, as at that time I held the family childhood record for the most pancakes consumed at one setting (at least that's what grandma said).

Her pancakes were unbelievable! I have never tasted any quite that superb--not in my whole lifetime. I think she had a secret recipe and placed them on a grill that was laced with bacon grease. I'm convinced that's where the flavor came from. My brother and I would often have a contest to see who could down the most. They were sensational!

This was the first funeral that I can recall being exposed to. My mother had this belief (which was never explained to me) that her children should touch the departed---something about good and back luck. I really didn't want to get near the coffin, let alone touch Uncle Kermit's cold hands. But mother insisted, so I did it. I remember thinking, "Yuk!"

Looking back, I now see the this whole affair did have a positive effect on me. It started me thinking about my own mortality and what happens when someone dies. It would be years later before I really came to grips with these issues, but in all the intervening time, I would think about it frequently. Little did I know that someday I would be the officient at many funerals and as such deal with the subject of death and it's ramifications often.

Do you remember when you first encountered the experience of death? How did it make you feel? I have come to understand that death is a natural part of the human experience. No one need fear death because God has opened the way for us to enter into His everlasting presence. He planned it before the world began and then personally saw to it that no one need be afraid of their passing. Jesus is the key to this doorway to eternal life and He urges us to prepare for the entrance. He alone is the resurrection and the life.