I look forward to death with great anticipation, to meeting God

“I look forward to death with great anticipation, to meeting God face to face.” — Billy Graham

In this serene and luminous statement, Billy Graham, the great evangelist of the twentieth century, reveals the courage and peace of a soul reconciled with eternity. His words are not the cry of despair, nor the trembling of one who fears the end, but the calm confession of a man who has walked with faith and now longs to see, without shadow or veil, the God whom he has served. In his life, Graham spoke to millions, proclaiming the hope of salvation; yet in this single sentence, he preaches his final and most personal sermon — that death, for the faithful, is not an ending, but a homecoming.

To say “I look forward to death” is to embrace the mystery that terrifies most of mankind. For the world clings to life as though it were the only treasure. We labor to preserve the body, to prolong the years, to deny the inevitable. But Graham’s anticipation of death reveals a higher understanding — that life, however beautiful, is but a passageway toward something greater. The one who believes in eternity learns that death is not darkness, but dawn; not loss, but fulfillment. It is the long-awaited meeting between the mortal and the divine, between the created and the Creator.

This truth has echoed through the hearts of the saints and philosophers of old. The Apostle Paul wrote, “To live is Christ, and to die is gain.” Socrates, drinking the cup of hemlock, spoke calmly to his disciples, believing that death would free his soul for a clearer vision of truth. The great mystic Teresa of Ávila called death her “beloved sister,” for she saw in it the doorway to divine union. And so, Billy Graham’s words are not new, but timeless — they are the continuation of an ancient wisdom: that the soul, when at peace with God, finds in death not terror, but anticipation.

To understand this fully, one must look at the life behind the words. Billy Graham spent decades preaching the message of redemption, traveling from humble churches to mighty stadiums, calling hearts back to faith. He spoke often of the brevity of life, of the necessity to prepare one’s soul. “You are not a body with a soul,” he would say, “you are a soul with a body.” His anticipation of death was not born from fatigue or weariness, but from faith fulfilled — the faith of one who believed he was journeying toward the face of Love itself. When he said he looked forward to meeting God, he spoke as a traveler who, after a long and noble pilgrimage, sees at last the lights of home.

History gives us many who faced death with similar calm. Marcus Aurelius, emperor and philosopher, wrote in his final reflections, “Do not act as if you were going to live ten thousand years. Death hangs over you. While you live, while it is in your power, be good.” He did not fear the end, for he had lived in accordance with virtue. So too, Billy Graham, having spent his life in service, could face his final hour without dread. He had made peace with his purpose, and thus, the end was no end to him. The soul that has lived in harmony with truth meets death not as an enemy, but as an old friend.

The lesson here, dear listener, is not merely about religion, but about readiness — the readiness of the heart to meet what comes without fear. Whether one believes in heaven or not, every life will meet its horizon. To live as Graham did is to live with awareness of that horizon, to walk each day as if preparing to meet something sacred. When the heart lives rightly — in kindness, humility, and gratitude — death loses its sting, for it finds no guilt to haunt, no regret to punish. The man or woman who has lived in alignment with truth will greet death as a continuation, not an interruption.

So let this be your wisdom: Do not fear the inevitable; prepare for it by living well. Seek peace with your soul while the light still shines upon you. Mend the wrongs you have done, forgive the wounds that still ache, and live each day as an offering to the divine — however you understand it. Then, when the time comes to cross the threshold, you too may say, as Billy Graham did, “I look forward to death with great anticipation.” For such anticipation is not born of recklessness, but of faith — faith that beyond the final veil lies not nothingness, but the face of truth, love, and eternal rest.