For the Days When Death Still Stings

A Poem for the Cemetery

A few years ago, our family started the tradition of walking through our church cemetery after the Easter service. Every year we sing the old Easter Hymns and proclaim, “O Death, where is your sting?” But that first year, as I walked past the gravestone marking the infant son of dear friends, I found myself asking my husband, Joe —who is also my pastor—

“Why does it feel like death still stings?”

When I asked Joe, he reminded me of the difference between the first death (physical—something we experience both first and second-hand) and the second death (spiritual—something we never will, because of Jesus). He pointed me to a sermon by Rico Tice, “Do Our Bodies Have a Future?”, rooted in the hope of 1 Corinthians 15.

Several fresh graves mar the cemetery grass this spring—one of them another infant child of dear friends. Our family felt the sting in a new way after miscarrying a baby in February. And I’ve heard and seen from many of you that you are carrying terrible grief into a season that we are called to rejoice. We’ve lost parents. Friends. Spouses. Children. We’ve felt the sting in infertility, in broken relationships, and in chronic illness.

This poem is my prayer and response for all the moments, days, and years when the effects of sin and death still sting. When faith feels more like a question than an answer. And when the victory still feels far off.

But the tomb is empty. And that ultimate hope means that we can hold joy and grief together. Because of Jesus, death does not get the final word.

I pray these words are a comfort to those walking through very real grief.

“When He wipes away every tear, our faces glisten more brilliantly than if we never would have cried.” (@davidcmathis)

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1 Corinthians 15:35–38, 42 (ESV)

I know the tomb is empty
And I know my Savior lives.
But there are days
when death still stings
And my faith takes
more than it gives.

So I will recount Your truth
And recall what I know.
As I walk a path before me
among the saints
who wait in rows.

I walk the garden of our God
These stones mark seeds sown in the earth.
I know to live is Christ and to die is gain,
& Death is a condition of rebirth.

This life is winter, but spring is coming,
Death will not have the final word.

And this living hope does make
What was bitter - sweet.
Though our hearts ache
in a world sin-stained.
Our lips will still repeat:

We will praise Him in the shadow of the valley,
In suffering, our faith is exhumed.
The resurrection of our Jesus
Makes the final threat of Death 
as empty as the tomb.

For we are more than conquerors,
though we feel this earthly loss.
This now & not yet life
has the tension of the cross.

So we will praise Him in this kingdom
That is both now and not yet.
Though every day we are dying

We know
There is no
Second death.

…

Genesis 3, Job 19:25, Psalm 23:4, Psalm 77:11, Song of Solomon 2:11-12, Lamentations 3:21-23, Luke 17:21, Luke 24:6, John 12:24, John 20:11-18, Romans 6:4-5, Romans 6:9, Romans 8:18, Romans 8:22-23, Romans 8:37, 1 Corinthians 15:26, 1 Corinthians 15:42-44, 1 Corinthians 15:55-57, Philippians 1:21, 1 Thessalonians 4:13-14, Hebrews 11:1, Hebrews 12:1, Hebrews 12:28, James 1:2-4, 1 Peter 1:3-4, 1 Peter 1:6-7, Revelation 20:6, Revelation 21:4.