Austin's Blog

The old hymn “He Lives” has a chorus that says: “He lives! He lives! Christ Jesus lives today! He walks with me and talks with me Along life’s narrow way He lives! He lives! Salvation to impart! You ask me how I know He lives? He lives within my heart!”

I want to describe what it was like in the hospital room when Gabe went to heaven and why it is connected to the resurrection. It became painfully clear that he was not going to recover after about three days from when he experienced his medical emergency. The only thing keeping him from the presence of Jesus was the medical intervention sustaining his life. Without those machines, he would naturally pass into the presence of God. So, we agonizingly said our goodbyes. Our family came in and each one said goodbye to him. Valerie and I gave him one last bath together. We prayed over him. We sang worship songs. We each held him. And then he was placed in Valerie’s arms. The machines were turned off, and he slowly drifted to heaven. The only storm he had ever experienced was the one that week that wafted him into the presence of the Lord.

It was a deeply surreal experience. It was hands-down the hardest moment of our lives. And yet, we had a strong sense that the risen Lord, Jesus Christ was in the room with us. Not in a way that brought immediate joy or happiness, but in a quiet, unmistakable awareness. It was like when your back is turned to someone and you know they are there even though you cannot see them. That was our experience of Jesus in that moment.

We never felt forsaken. We never felt abandoned. We felt upheld and sustained in the worst moment of our lives. Christ was present with us. And more than that—we had a keen awareness that as our son, our firstborn, our miracle baby, was slowly passing into eternity, it was the Lord Jesus who was receiving him. It was the Lord Jesus who was near to him, loving him, taking him into His presence.

Gabe went to the One who loved him even more than we did. And I have often wondered, what argument could be made against the truth of Christianity when, in our deepest and darkest moment, we experienced the presence of the risen Lord so profoundly? I believe Jesus was raised on the third day for a host of reasons: Jesus was buried in a known tomb that was later found empty, numerous and various people thereafter reported seeing a resurrected Jesus, Jesus’ disciples were radically transformed, the early church worshipped Jesus and used practices which symbolized the resurrection in doing so, and altered standard Jewish beliefs, and many people today (billions, in fact) claim to experience victory in their lives through Jesus’ resurrection.

All of that is true. Yet, what matters most to me when I think about why I wholeheartedly believe in the empty tomb is because He was there with me in that hospital room. The experience goes beyond reason but is nevertheless real, true, and felt. In the most harrowing tomb of my life, the risen Savior was present, knee-deep in our sorrow and sadness loving us.

Dr. Chad Bird, a fellow bereaved parent, writes, “As we seek to follow Jesus in our lives and vocations, his resurrection becomes the universal “but” to every heartbroken fact of our existence. -When we watch our beloved parent or child or friend lowered into the grave, we say, “But, Christ is risen.” -When we see our families or communities torn asunder and wonder if there is any hope for the future, we say, “But, Christ is risen.” -When our churches are plagued by scandals, frozen by despair, or shrink into a few scattered and gray-haired worshipers, we say, “But, Christ is risen.” -When we stumble and fall, get up only to stumble yet again, limping our way along as mortal, weak, weary disciples, we say, “But, Christ is risen.” And because of that “but,” because of that divine and joyful rebuttal, Julian of Norwich is right: “All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well.” Jesus is alive and well and reigning over us as King of kings and Lord of lords.”

You ask me how I know He lives? He lives within my heart and He was in the room when my son’s heart stopped beating.