Scripture reading: Luke 7:11-17
Death is such a painful thing. In this week’s scripture reading, we witness the heartbreaking scene of a burial procession, the only son of a widow being carried to his grave. You can feel the weight of it.
Then came news of Daddy Lumba’s passing this weekend, the beloved Ghanaian highlife legend, who died on the morning of Saturday, July 26, after a short illness. The same morning, I was grappling with my own ‘personal’ loss. Life is so short. Indeed, how brief and fleeting it is.
Jesus sees the mourning crowd and is deeply moved. He approaches, touches the coffin, and the dead young man rises.
Death scorches. And there are things we may never understand, like why we lose someone despite doing everything possible to prevent it. Or why the ones who go are those we feel didn’t deserve it — too young, too kind, too full of promise. Yet even though death feels mysterious and final, it is not the end.
It may feel like the end, stirring deep grief and sharp stabs of guilt, but as Jesus shows us today, it isn’t. There is more. There must be. Jesus Himself had to die, but He rose again. And He promises the same for all who believe:
“I am the resurrection and the life. He that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live.” (John 11:25)
This life isn’t all there is.
Still, we must make every moment count. Grieve, yes. Count the losses. But don’t stay down too long. Rise. Shake off the dust. Go after the next win. Because, like Charles Kwadwo Fosu (Daddy Lumba) once sang, a time will come when each of us will have to ‘fly’ away. Like the bird…
Ankwanoma
Mede me kra abɔ afɔreɛ o
Mereyɛ nea mɛtumie
Me mmerɛ so a, na mekorɔ o
Ankwanoma, anoma ei, boo, na anoma ei
Mm, Ankwanoma ei
Me mmerɛ so a, na mekorɔ o
Translation
Lonely bird
I have laid down my life as an offering,
Doing all I can while I can.
And when my time comes, I will go.
Lonely bird, bird ei, dear birdie,
Mm… lonely bird,
When my time comes, I will go.
Until then, we press on.
“As long as it is day, we must do the works of Him who sent us. Night is coming, when no one can work.” (John 9:4)
Let’s pray
Lord Jesus,
You are the Resurrection and the Life.
You looked upon a grieving mother and brought her son back to life.
You entered into our sorrow, and You overcame it.
Today, we bring before You the ache of our losses —
The people we’ve loved and had to let go,
The dreams that died too soon,
The questions we still carry in our hearts.
Yet in the midst of pain, we declare our hope:
Death is not the end.
Because You rose, we too shall rise.
Because You live, we can face tomorrow — with courage, with peace, with purpose.
Lord, breathe new strength into our weary souls.
Help us live with meaning —
To love deeply, to give generously,
To rise from our grief and walk boldly in our calling.
Teach us to number our days and make each one count.
Let our lives be offerings poured out in service to You.
May we press on, even through the tears,
Knowing that a time will come when we too will take flight —
Not into emptiness, but into eternal joy with You.
Until then, we will live fully,
Love deeply,
And walk faithfully in the light You’ve given us.
Amen.
Reflection
Grief whispers that death is final, that everything beautiful is now buried and gone. But Jesus shows us otherwise. He steps into funeral processions and rewrites stories. He doesn’t just comfort the grieving, He conquers the grave.
Loss hurts. It confuses. It breaks. But it does not win.
Because Jesus rose, there is hope beyond the grave. Because He lives, we can face even the darkest days with the confidence that this — this pain, this ending, this goodbye — is not the end.
On Rounds with Jesus 