Appointed Once to Die

…..no one leaves here alive 

The 12th of May started like every other day.

Worship. Prayers. Work. The usual routine in between.

But something was different. I wanted quietness, something close to silence. It just felt like the kind of day that would demand it. Even the sound of notifications from my phone felt like it would distort whatever peace I was trying to preserve.

So I put my phone on Do Not Disturb and left it alone.

Later in the morning, I checked it again and realised I had missed a call, a call from someone important. I returned it immediately.

And that was when I heard it.

A piercing cry. A heavy voice. A sentence that shifted the entire atmosphere of my day.

Someone had died.

Life Goes On 

Isn’t it strange how life continues even when something terrible happens?

It doesn’t pause, it doesn’t slow down, it doesn’t take a breath to let you process your grief.

It just keeps moving, like a fixed schedule that cannot be altered.

According to global mortality projections published by recognised sources like the UN, WHO, and platforms such as Our World in Data, about 60 million people die every year worldwide. That translates to roughly 150,000 to 160,000 deaths every day—about 6,800 people every hour, and over 100 people every minute.

And yet, we move.

Someone somewhere is crying over a fresh grave, but the clock still ticks. The sun still rises. The air still flows. The earth does not pause to acknowledge anyone’s pain.

That reality humbles me.

Because it reminds you that:

grief is personal, but time is indifferent.

It takes me back to Genesis 8:22:

“While the earth remains, seedtime and harvest… day and night shall not cease.” 

Everything has been scheduled by the Creator Himself to keep going.

It is business as usual—life goes on.

Living Life on Your Terms 

As the day was gradually nearing its end, I remember lying in bed and deciding to check social media.

I needed a little laughter.

Even though social media can be overwhelming sometimes, I just wanted something light, something to take the edge off a day that already felt heavy.

I wish I hadn’t.

Because the same kind of news that greeted me in the morning was waiting for me again at night.

Someone popular had passed away.

A young person. Someone who had quietly gone under the radar and stayed away from the noise.

As I stared at the pictures; his bright smile, his youthful face—a wave of sadness hit me. And the emotions I had tried to shut out since morning came rushing back like they had been waiting for permission.

As I scrolled, I saw tributes pouring in. People sharing memories, expressing shock, posting their grief.

But one thing stood out, this person didn’t share his struggles.

When asked how he was doing, he always said he was fine. They all attested to how kind he was. One line that stayed with me, something they said he often used while he was alive, was:

“Chop life before life chop you.”

To some people, that might sound carnal but the meaning I took from it was simple:

Life can happen at any point—so make the most of it while you still can.

Because no matter how we package it, no one is making it out alive.

He chose to live away from public scrutiny. He didn’t turn his pain into content. He didn’t give the world access to his private battles. He withdrew from the limelight and lived—and left—on his terms.

And honestly, some of the people saying, “He should have spoken up,” don’t necessarily care.

They just want gist.

This generation feasts on other people’s pain (we’ll talk about that another day).

In my last musings, I said people often conclude on what they cannot figure out, then use “fillers” to complete the story they’ve written about you. But just because someone doesn’t put their pain on display for you to validate it, doesn’t mean it isn’t real or that it didn’t happen.

You can read about it here: “You Have It Easy.” 

And this situation confirmed it again.

We All Grieve Differently

As I kept scrolling, I saw another video.

A man—apparently a popular entrepreneur—crying.

At first, I wondered what had happened. Then I listened.

He and his wife had lost their babies. Twins.

And he was broken.

Of course, some people would still ask, “Why would he come online to share this?”

But he said something that stuck with me. He said he believes in sharing, and I understood him. In the same way, I understood the person who chose to keep things to himself and respond that he was fine, but still lived away from public scrutiny.

Maybe that’s how he processes grief. Maybe that’s how he survives it. Maybe speaking is the only way he can breathe through the pain.

And that too is valid.

Because we all do this life thing differently.

Some people grieve in silence. Some people grieve out loud.

Some withdraw. Some speak.

Some hide. Some share.

But either way, pain is pain.

And grief is grief.

We All Die

Another thing I’ve come to accept:

death will always feel like a rude shock.

No matter how many times we hear of it, it never becomes normal.

But what wears me out sometimes is how death is the only thing that forces people into perspective.

It’s like we only remember how fragile life is when someone passes.

We only remember kindness when a burial poster shows up.

We only say, “There’s really nothing to this world,” when time stops for another person.

But what if we lived with that consciousness every day?

I once saw a birthday caption where the celebrant wrote:

“…a step closer to the end.”

At the time, it scared me. It sounded almost wrong. But the more I thought about it, the more it made sense.

Because every birthday is not just a celebration, it is also a reminder.

A year less here.

A step closer to eternity.

Solomon captured this perfectly in Ecclesiastes 3:1–2:

“To everything there is a season… a time to be born, and a time to die.”

If we truly sit with this, maybe we would begin to see death the way we see life—inevitable, appointed, and certain.

Maybe then, we would stop postponing love.

Stop postponing forgiveness.

Stop postponing obedience.

Stop postponing the things that truly matter.

We would celebrate the joy of the little things. Learning to See Again

Because whether we like it or not, life is moving and it is moving fast.

Death is not the opposite of life. It is the reminder that life is temporary.

No one is leaving here alive, but thank God for eternity with Him. And that is where the real comfort is.

Because as painful as death is, life doesn’t end at death. It continues—eternally.

The eternal life with the Giver of Life Himself.

How perfect is God…

Ok Bye!