Forty-Eight Is Young Until It’s Your Turn

When someone I admired passes, I run the same quiet search every time. I look for Christ.

I want to know whether they trusted Him. I want to know whether their last conscious moment was a grip on a Savior, or a grasp at fog.

James Van Der Beek’s death did what death always does. It turned a famous face into a question mark. And then I read his own words, spoken during cancer, and I felt the sting of both honesty and uncertainty:

“Before cancer, God was something I tried to fit into my life as much as possible,” he said. “After cancer, I feel like a connection to God, whatever that is, is kind of the whole point of this exercise on this planet.”

I cannot peer into a man’s last moments, and I will not pretend I can.

Yet, that phrase, whatever that is, is where the whole world lives right now. People know there is Something. They feel the tug when the doctor sits down. They sense a shift when the house goes quiet at 2 a.m. They whisper about “connection” the way a thirsty man talks about rain.

Yet God has never introduced Himself as “whatever.” God is not a guess. He has spoken, and His words have fingerprints all over history. He comes near in a Person. The gospel does not offer a mood. It offers Jesus Christ, crucified and risen, Lord and Savior.

Death forces the question because death does not ask permission.

How often does it happen? Once for you and once for me. A funeral still stops our stomach, because the conscience knows death does not belong in God’s world like a natural seasoning. It tastes like judgment.

Why does death happen at all? Scripture reaches back before our first hospital visit or our first graveside prayer. God warned the first man: disobedience would bring death. Dust would return to dust. The human race turned from its Maker, and every coffin is a sermon preached in oak and steel: sin kills.

Psalm 90 speaks with frightening clarity. God sets our iniquities before Him, even our secret sins in the light of His countenance. Death carries moral weight. Death carries judgment in its hands. Sin signs the paycheck.

People react in predictable ways, and you can spot them in the wild if you watch closely.

Some call death unreal. They speak as if words can erase the grave.

Some refuse to name it. They fill every spare minute with sound. Music, news, podcasts, the endless glow of a television. Their life becomes a crowded room because silence feels like a door creaking open toward eternity.

Some act tough. They rehearse bravery and treat dying like a badge. Yet the heart still jumps when a friend’s name appears under the word “died.”

Some collapse into sentiment. They collect tearful scenes, share quotes, light candles, and still avoid the sharp edge of the question: Where do we go?

Now the Christian must answer with a different posture. A believer does not chase death. God has already fixed your day. You cannot improve on His wisdom. Your calling is to live usefully for Christ, to honor the sanctity of life, to love your neighbor, to keep your hands clean, to speak the truth. And when death comes, the Christian walks into it with company.

Psalm 23 does not picture a stage. It pictures a narrow passage where light fades and the air cools. The Shepherd goes first, and the sheep follows with a steadying touch. The valley has shadows, yet the presence of the Shepherd changes what the shadows can do. The Christian’s last walk is still a walk, and Christ is still Christ.

So what actually is death? Genesis tells us what we are. God formed man from the dust, then breathed life into him. You are body and spirit. Death is separation. The body returns to the ground, and the spirit returns to God who gave it. That means your story does not end at a graveside. You do not blink into nothingness or simply dissolve into a memory.

Some people insist that thought is only chemistry, that love is only electrical current, that you are an animal with better vocabulary. Scripture insists otherwise. Jesus spoke to a dying thief and promised him paradise that very day.

Jesus taught that the One to fear is the One who can judge both body and soul. The rich man and Lazarus both died, and both remained aware. One woke to torment. One woke to comfort. Their bodies lay still, and their souls lived on.

That is why this matters. Death is not a full stop. It is a doorway.

For the unbeliever, death is separation from everything he clung to as god: money, pleasure, reputation, control. The hands open, and all of it slides away.

For the believer, death becomes something else entirely. Romans 8 presses the promise down like a stake driven into rocky ground: neither death nor life can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord. The love that found you in your sin does not loosen its grip when your breathing weakens.

Scripture even speaks tenderly about the death of God’s people. “Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints.” The word precious belongs to things you keep near. God uses it for the homecoming of His children. Paul calls death a departure, a leaving for a better country, a going to be with Christ.

So I read James Van Der Beek’s line again, and I feel the pull of it. Cancer stripped away some noise. It made him talk about God as the whole point. Then the uncertainty remained: whatever that is.

Friend, you do not have to die with “whatever” on your lips.

God has made Himself known in Jesus Christ. The Son of God took on flesh, lived without sin, carried our guilt, bore the curse, and rose in victory. He calls sinners to repentance and faith, to turn from sin and trust Him. He does not offer a vague connection. He offers Himself.

God has already circled your day on His calendar. You may be ready. You may be avoiding the thought with a thousand small distractions. Either way, the appointment stands.

Seek the Lord while He may be found. Let the fog clear. Let the name become sharp on your tongue: Jesus. Let the doorway become hope.

---

For more devotions click here.

Sign up for my email list here.

For a list of other essential Christian reads click here.

---

Enjoying this content? If you’d like to support my work and help me create more Bible-centered resources like this devotion, consider buying me a coffee! Your support means the world and helps keep this ministry going.