For [death] is the end of every man, and the living takes it to heart. (Eccl. 7:2)

“Mommy, am I going to die?” I asked as I lay in bed, plagued by the misery of pneumonia. Even at age five I was aware of my mortality, the specter of death looming large in my fertile imagination. My mother soothed me with words of comfort, and I soon recovered from the pneumonia to pursue childhood with gleeful abandon.<

This memory highlights the reality that God “has set eternity in their hearts” (Eccl. 3:11), even the hearts of young children. Though I didn’t often contemplate death, I recall times when I was made aware of it through the passing of friends, family, and church members. These occasions reminded me that our days are fleeting and helped to ground what would otherwise be a wayward heart in the truths of God’s Word.

I am the fourth of five children born to Ray and Alice Joseph, a pastor’s family in the Reformed Presbyterian Church. I have many happy recollections of family life: plenty of love and laughter as well as times of discipline extended with grace. We were taught to love God and love people. The memory of my father’s earnestness to worship God together left an indelible mark. As a child, it spoke to me of the importance of who God is—worthy of our time, worthy of our worship. My dad often said that Sunday was the pinnacle of the week, when we made our way to “Mount Zion.” He taught us, and set by example, what is of first priority. “Faith comes from hearing, and hearing by the Word of Christ” (Rom. 10:17). Hearing the Word week by week, seeing the faith lived out by my parents, and being taught a God-ward focus set in motion patterns by which to live.

Being born into a pastor’s family brought unique challenges along with these advantages. Our home was open to many who might need counsel, fellowship, or simply a warm meal. My parents lived their lives with the attitude of “what’s mine is yours,” showing hospitality to all who came through our doors. I’m grateful for their selfless example.

Living near Purdue University, we often housed university students in our basement apartment. Dad and Mom saw this as an extension of their ministry, and, along with providing housing, included the students in our evening meal. I sometimes resented what I perceived as an intrusion on family life, but overall I enjoyed the variety of personalities and lively discussions. I saw firsthand what “inviting in the stranger” meant—not a perfectly ordered house or four-course meal, but a heart for people made in the image of God and in need of community.

Daily living had its challenges and irritations for me, sometimes accompanied with whining or complaining. My dad’s often-heard exhortation to “Rejoice!” taught me how to respond to inconvenient or uncomfortable circumstances: not with a stoic, stiff-upper-lip mentality, but rather with the recognition that our daily providences, even the hard ones, are from a kind and gracious God. We are to accept them with a calmness of spirit, knowing God does all things well. I am still reminded of my dad’s words when I’m tempted to complain.

Though the seeds of faith were present, my heart was often resistant to growth. Being known as the quiet one in the family made it easy to blend into the background and, in observing my siblings, I learned quickly what not to do. Outwardly I was a compliant child, yet inwardly I knew of sin in my heart and I learned how to mask my true feelings. Lying and manipulating to get my way revealed a heart in need of a Savior. “The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately sick; who can understand it?” (Jer. 17:9). I knew that God understood it, and oftentimes I felt the stab of a guilty conscience.

My primary and middle school years can be summarized as “going along to get along,” not wanting to draw too much attention to the fact that my family was religious. I enjoyed school friends and activities, not considering too seriously my faith or witness. It was during the middle of seventh grade, at a winter church youth retreat, that the reality of life and death again made itself known to my insulated world. The speaker used Ecclesiastes as his text, addressing the vanity of life and meaninglessness under the sun apart from Christ.

During the three-day retreat, we heard the sad news that Mel Vos, a young RP pastor, had been instantly killed as he was out on an evening run. Though I didn’t know him or his family personally, the jarring news shook me to the core. Walking back to the girl’s lodging, I knelt in the snow, looking up at the myriad of stars in the night sky, and cried out to God to forgive me of my deceitful and straying heart. The words of Psalm 86:11 were my cry: “Teach me Your way, O Lord; I will walk in Your truth; unite my heart to fear Your name.” I knew my divided heart needed to be united for one purpose, and that was to love the Lord with all my heart, soul, strength, and mind. It is still my life’s verse, as I can so quickly be led astray by various idols. The keeping power of Christ is a very reassuring doctrine. We have been saved to the uttermost!

It was through a girls’ Bible study at our church, taught by Jerri (Long) Faris in those middle school and high school years, that God helped to deepen my love for Him and His Word. Jerri had a heart for me, my sister, and several other girls who needed encouragement in their walk of faith. One blessing that resulted from that study was a desire to store God’s Word in my heart through memorization. My older sister and I both knew we needed to meditate on Scripture, so we challenged each other to memorize various passages. We sometimes would lie in bed and recite the verses to each other until we fell asleep.

Lest you think we were spiritual giants, we experienced the common struggles and temptations teenage girls have. We sinned daily in thought, word, and deed. But we wanted to grasp hold of God so that our minds could be renewed. We knew that absorbing the Word so that it percolated in our minds and saturated our thinking was vital to directing our affections away from self and toward Him. “Your words were found, and I ate them, and your words became to me a joy and the delight of my heart” (Jer. 15:16). I’m thankful for memorization in my younger years, because today it doesn’t come as easily.

Throughout my college years at Geneva College, then at Kendall College of Design, God provided for every need. I attended a PCA church while in Grand Rapids, Mich., and through that found a room to rent from a wonderful Christian woman. I enjoyed fellowship with an Inter Varsity group at Kendall, where I made friends with whom I could relate and gain encouragement. When I finished college and began working in Pittsburgh, Pa., I roomed with several Christian women who had a heart for hospitality, and we enjoyed many shared meals with friends and acquaintances. I have fond memories of vital Christian community during those years.

The Christian’s life, though full beyond measure with the blessings of knowing Christ, is also fraught with very real struggles as we learn to walk with God and walk away from sin. I have often stumbled in my weakness, but God has lifted me up to set my feet on the rock of Christ. In spiritually dry periods when I have been unfaithful to God, He has shown Himself faithful to draw me back to Himself.

During one such time when I was young, living in Pittsburgh, attending Covenant Fellowship RPC, and working full-time at Filmet Color Labs’ art department, I engaged in casual dating. I was well into my twenties and most of my college friends were married. Desiring the attentions of men, I became careless in guarding my heart from being carried away. This can be a real struggle for Christian women who grow tired of waiting, and was for me. I cavalierly dated several men, none of whom I ever would have considered for a future spouse. I ration­alized that I was in it merely for fun, not regarding the danger this was to my spiritual life, nor that I was grieving the Holy Spirit. It wasn’t until my older sister confronted me and asked what I was doing dating a non-Christian that I acknowledged my pride and selfishness. My actions were not consistent with my identity in Christ and I knew I needed to own up. The night before leaving for a visit home to Michigan, I broke it off with my friend, asking God to forgive me and to keep me faithful in seeking His will. “Turn away my eyes from looking at vanity, and revive me in Your way” (Ps. 119:37).

God’s mercies are new every morning. I was pleasantly surprised to make the acquaintance of a certain pilot while visiting my parents’ church that week at home. I perceived that here was a man who loved and served God and His people, and to whom I could entrust my heart. David and I struck up a correspondence, then a long-distance relationship (putting many miles on our cars between Pittsburgh and Detroit that year).

Soon we were engaged. At our wedding, our pastor delivered a message from Psalm 37: “Delight yourself in the Lord; trust in Him, and He will do it.” I am grateful God protected me from the consequences of foolish choices in dating, and showed me the truth of His promises.

We’ve grown together through almost 25 years of marriage, iron sharpening iron, and I am thankful for how God has used David to help me better understand myself. Being a wife and a mother of two girls, I have come to see more fully my calling and giftedness. It has been the best training ground in teaching me humility, perseverance, and reliance upon God. From newlywed days, throughout parenthood, and to the present, God has kept me. “The Lord is your keeper; the Lord is your shade on your right hand” (Ps. 121:5). This is such a comfort when my own weakness of the flesh can discourage!

We now live in Syracuse, N.Y., where we share life together with Messiah’s Church. Over the years, I know that God has used the influence of godly parents, grandparents, pastors, teachers, and others to direct me to Himself. He was gracious and merciful in granting me salvation through the merits of Christ alone. I give thanks that though I am a broken vessel, God continues to hone and teach me through the means of grace.

As we recently experienced the sudden passing of a dear church member, again the words of Ecclesiastes came to mind: “It is better to go to a house of mourning than to go to a house of feasting, because that is the end of every man, and the living takes it to heart” (7:2). The question that haunted my five-year-old mind—“Mommy, am I going to die?”—has been answered many times over, “yes.” But now I have confident assurance that at death God will receive me to glory, eternally to be with Him.

Barbara McCune and her husband, David, live in Liverpool, N.Y., where they attend Messiah’s Church (Clay, N.Y.), RPC. They have two college-age girls, Annie and Allison.