It’s a sobering word.
None of us know exactly where, when, or how we’ll die. To most of my peers, it seems an eternity away. But in the end, eternity is exactly what we’ll have. Today, Easter Sunday, I have been thinking more about death.
In many of my favorite books—Narnia, Lord of the Rings, Binding of the Blade, The Circle Trilogy—main characters die. Even in my own novella, death comes often. But characters don’t die without a purpose. Their deaths accomplish something.
Boromir dies attempting to save Pippin and Merry. Though he fails, he redeems his own soul from the lust of the Ring.
Aslan dies on the Stone Table to redeem Edmund.
Justin, in the Circle, drowned to cure the Horde’s disease once and for all.What’s worth dying for?