My almost-99-year-old grandmother is waiting to die.

I remember visiting her in her snowbird house right outside of Phoenix most Christmases in my childhood.  I remember watching things change each time we visited – fewer Christmas decorations, fewer explorations of Phoenix, earlier bed times because she was growing physically tired.  I also remember the moment we were in the car with her and she hopped a curb and scraped her fender. My mom suggested she should stop driving.

It was maybe in 2003 that she decided to live permanently in Rochester, Minnesota and sell her two houses.  She moved into her own apartment in an assisted living facility, but chose the wing with the least assistance.  For the last 15+ years, she has maintained her own space, washed her own laundry, provided her own breakfasts and lunches, and walked down to the Kwik Trip each week to pick up bananas (even in the dead of winter).

She has defeated four different types of cancer, including some aggressive melanoma and breast cancer, and has survived numerous falls.  One of her falls was in the shower and ended with 6 firemen barging into her bathroom; she likes to note that she maintained consciousness through the full episode to ensure that you understand her complete embarrassment.

She has been the most persistent and strong elderly woman I know in the day to day, but also looks forward to her death.  I can’t remember a time that she hasn’t proclaimed that she won’t move out of her residence unless she’s taken out on a slab, and she prays nightly that she won’t wake up the next morning.

As morbid as it all sounds, I think she says these things out of the truth that awaits her in death.

Hearing Revelation 20 this Sunday was hearing the good news - the final cycle in the story of the bookends.  We know that Jesus wins. We know that victory is His. But at long last, we hear of the beauty of the binding of Satan, the reigning of the Saints, and the ultimate victory of Christ.  We see that this is what is now and what is to come. And we receive hope in the midst of the tyranny of the devil.

My grandmother serves as my best representation of what my spiritual life should look like at this time.  Although I know that Satan is to be released, and will have power to deceive, my victory is in Christ. Just as my grandmother’s body has declined, grown physically weak and tired, has been ravaged by cancer, and now dementia as she waits to die, she has hope. I, too, in the midst of growing spiritually weak and tired, marred by grief and loss, constantly battling the ailment of sin, can sustain my hope knowing that Jesus will win, even in the time of Satan’s loosing.  With my eyes affixed on Christ, I will hope in and proclaim His coming victory.

Because Satan is bound now, our ministry is effective.  Because Satan is bound now, we are able to minister to our neighbor, coworker, friend, family member, enemy, and trust that it does not fall on deaf ears and that Satan does not have the power to stop it.

Because Satan is bound now, we know that the saints are reigning with Christ at this very moment, in full glory, awaiting their new bodies.  Because Satan is bound now, we know that he has not been victorious even in martyrdom and death.

Because Satan is bound now, we know that there will be a loosing, a release, and a war to come.  But we also know that Jesus will come with the power of His Word and will throw him into the lake of fire to burn forever.

“A mighty fortress is our God, a bulwark never failing;

Our helper He, amid the flood or mortal ills prevailing:

For still our ancient foe doth seek to work us woe;

His craft and power are great, and, armed with cruel hate,

On earth is not his equal.

Did we in our own strength confide, our striving would be losing;

Were not the right man on our side, the Man of God’s own choosing:

Dost ask who that may be? Christ Jesus, it is He;

The Lord of Hosts, His Name, from age to age the same,

And He must win the battle.

And though this world, with devils filled, should threaten to undo us,

We will not fear for God hath willed His truth to triumph through us:

The Prince of Darkness grim, we tremble not for him;

His rage we can endure, for lo, his doom is sure,

One little word shall fell him.

That word above all earthly powers, no thanks to them, abideth;

The Spirit and the gifts are ours through Him Who with us sideth:

Let goods and kindred go, this mortal life also;

The body they may kill: God’s truth abideth still,

His kingdom is forever.”

~ Emily Spare