Undiscovered

When I think of “the undiscovered country,” I cannot separate it from Joshua’s death 23 years ago. That moment tore open the veil between this life and eternity in a way I could never ignore. For me, it was not an abstract phrase from Shakespeare—it was my son stepping into a place I could not follow, a land I could not yet reach.

At the time, it felt like pure loss, the cruelest unknown. But with years and faith, I’ve come to see it differently. Joshua was not lost—he was found ahead of me. His passing forced me to confront the reality that life here is fleeting, and that eternity is where our hope must rest. He went into the undiscovered country before me, and in a way, he has made it less frightening. His absence has carved out a homesickness in me, not just for him, but for the Kingdom of God itself.

His death also changed how I see the future here on earth. It taught me that every day matters, that the work I do in family, community, and faith is not just about the present, but about building something that reaches beyond me—just as his short life still ripples forward in mine.

So the undiscovered country is two things for me: the eternity where Joshua waits, and the unfolding future I am still walking toward with faith. I don’t fully know what it holds, but I know it is not empty. It is full of promise, memory, and God’s presence.