Last week I lost my younger brother, Mike Ose. Death is never easy, especially when it comes prematurely to those we love.
As I sat alone in the hospital room with my brother's body moments after he was pronounced dead, I had a sense of eternity. A sense that rarely comes. And in a funny sort of way, I realized that my little brother had beaten me to heaven. We were so close in age that competition was a natural interchange between us, not so much in later years, but one is reminded of things from the past during life and death situations.
When my older sister entered the room, we held one another close with a new realization of the word, cherish. All I could think about was eternity. He was in heaven. He was really there now, in heaven. He no longer saw through glasses darkly, but face to face. He knew what heaven was like. He saw Jesus.
I was with my brother when he trusted in Jesus' redeeming power. Once we even slithered out of our traditional Lutheran church service and went to the Alliance service in town. We hungered for God and longed to experience Him in fresh ways.
So, in a silly, sort of "sister way", I envy my brother. Yes, he beat me to heaven, but I will see him again someday and life on this earth will then seem like a blink of an eye.