Nobody wants to think about death.
We have been forced to deal with it as we have ministered to grieving families over the years.
Death is inevitable.  It is also unnatural.
God created us from the dust of the ground.  Dirt.  Amazingly, we were formed from fragile material but with a resilience that is almost death-defying.  Our Maker intended us to prosper and flourish in our Garden home.
God breathed into Adam that eternal, life-giving spirit.  We were meant to live forever.
Genesis 3 explains why we now face the harsh reality of death.  Adam and Eve disobeyed the only commandment:  don't eat from that one tree.  Because they ate of its fruit, death entered the world.  Disease, suffering, dysfunction, abuse, separation, darkness, evil...all these elements of sin influenced humanity and all creation.  The part of our existence that would live forever was now broken; we were now destined for eternity in hell.  And our life on earth would be fraught with pain and difficulty.
I am thinking about these things in light of the shootings in La Loche, Saskatchewan.  What dark thoughts did this young Dene man have tormenting him that he would act out in the ultimate act of murder?  Five lives were lost.  Many others affected by this violence.  Where is the hope?
I am thinking about the tragic death of a 16-year-old girl on Whitebear First Nation.  She was a niece to one of our co-workers.  Her frozen body was found only yards from a house. What a sad and senseless end to a life barely begun!  Where is the hope?
Yesterday was the second anniversary of my Dad's passing.  His once strong and athletic body is gone.  His once active mind and silly sense of humour is silent.  I miss him.  We all miss him.
This afternoon, I visited my Grandpa in the hospital.  He is 93.  He lived a long, full life, farming and raising 7 children.  It was hard to see him lying in the bed, oxygen and IV tubes connecting his body to life-sustaining elements.  He could pull through this bladder infection.  But even if he rallies, he has Alzheimers and will return to the nursing home down the road.
Grandpa could barely whisper my Mom's name and ask after Grandma.  He used to unwind the dining room window and holler out instructions to a hired hand without the aid of a bullhorn.  He didn't need one!  I noticed the strength still in his calloused and curved hands; he gripped the bedrail or our hands with the power of one used to hard work.  But it is obvious Grandpa will not live forever on this earth.  He will pass on.  Maybe very soon.
So as I consider how death can come quickly and unexpectedly, violently and tragically, I also see the way death can come slowly and gradually, through deterioration and age.  How do I reconcile the horrible realities of some deaths and the natural end to a normal life in others?
I have no words of wisdom, no answer that is not cliche.
All I have is the conversation Walter and I had with my Grandma at her home in Weyburn.  I was bracing myself for some tears, some brokenness and defeat.  Instead, Grandma was in her recliner chair with a cup of tea, after having whipped up some cornmeal muffins in case people stopped by and needed a snack.  We chatted.  When Walter brought up Grandpa's condition, Grandma simply said, "It won't happen fast.  If he recovers it will take some time.  If he goes, it will also be a while."
I took comfort in her peaceful acceptance.
Death is part of life.  We can't rush it.  We can't avoid it.
Where is the hope?
My hope is in my Maker.  He has our lives in His hands, our souls in His care.  He has made a way for us to live with Him in eternity when we put our trust in His Son, Jesus Christ.  Jesus knew death. His death bought us eternal life.  
I can trust a Saviour who died for me.