They were four, six, and eight years old as we brought them into the hospital room where he lay. The nurses had combed his hair, lowered the bed all the way down, and cradled a stuffed dog he’d been given under his now cold arm. Dad was gone, but to help our young children understand the new reality, they needed to come see, touch, and say goodbye to Papa.

We live in an age where we have moved death as far from us as possible. Even our language reflects this as we are more apt to say someone “passed” than say they “died.” My grandparents’ generation experienced the loss of children more often, and before the age of funeral homes (now remembrance centers), the deceased would be housed in the living room for the neighbors to come pay respects. Death was more closely connected to life.

We need to realize that we are likely returning to such a time. The rate of mortality of the current pandemic, which may get even worse if the current steps to slow the virus are removed, mean that many that we know and love may die in the next year. My wife and I have sat down and discussed the reality we may now face. We are likely to find death close to us repeatedly this year. Uncomfortably close.

The Psalmist called it the valley of the shadow of death. The valley is not something you enter when you die. The shadow is cast onto our lives while we are here. Every time we draw near death, either our own or someone close to us, we find ourselves in the shadow.

As Christians, and those of us who shepherd others spiritually, we need to be thinking and preparing the enter to valley of the shadow of death. We must be prepared not just to face our own death, but to cope with death as it impacts our lives. Though we walk through the valley of the shadow of death, we should fear no evil. I don’t want to die yet, nor do I want my kids, my mom, or my friends to die. We all will though, and in a time of pandemic, perhaps sooner than I thought. My hope must rest in the Lord as I face the valley of the shadow.

I’m praying for you and us all as we face the valley without fear through Jesus. I’m having the hard conversations, reflecting on the fact that I and my loved ones are all “but a vapor.” In these times, we do not have the luxury of pretending otherwise.