If you are terrified of dying you shouldn't read this. In fact, close your eyes and hurry away.
I’m sure that most of
the people who know me will be calling me (if they know how to reach me
personally, to find out if I’m okay or if I’m thinking of killing
myself, or just to find out yet again, why I’m fascinated by the morbid.
So here’s the truth that I’m not afraid to share. It’s my
truth, I’m not forcing it on you, so don’t hyperventilate; I’m not afraid of
death.
There! I said it, and you have the right to think I’m
enamored by the morbid. I don’t think I am.
Death is not my worry, it is the way I go that sometimes
keeps me awake for one minute or less, some four times per year.
But I have to admit that I've somehow managed to gain some
insight into how it must feel, for those who chose death.
Don’t ask me how I came by this insight. I’m not at liberty
to divulge my sources.
Those who chose death are not necessarily weak, or
ungrateful, or cowardly.
They just get to a point where they stop seeing the point to
fighting a war that we are all born to lose.
Why delay the inevitable? We are all going to die anyway, so
why waste money dressing up a walking corpse in the name of plastic surgery or
health spas or vegan versus vegetarian diets?
When a person chooses to embrace death, they give in to end
the war, at least for themselves.
Yes they are giving up by giving in, but really, what are
they giving up on?
Here’s what: pain, hurt, sickness, the drudgery of waking up
each morning to throw yourself in the line of fire for more physical,
emotional, psychological and spiritual abuse and torture.
They ask themselves if they really must bother with all that.
They usually find a bold NO at the end of that question.
Then they compare the other option. Giving in. That one
promises undisturbed quiet and cessation of struggles and troubles.
They even have a promise from the Christian bible in Ec
9:10, where it says there is no work to be done in Sheol.
That option begins to look very good. It starts like a
little crack in a generally accepted idea that had previously stood as solid as Gibraltar itself, and eventually grows from
fission to chasm.
The option boldly challenges a conspiracy that has been
force fed on every man, woman and child ever born; the conspiracy theory, that
life if worth fighting for.
They wonder at the touted sense that supposedly underpins
fighting to hold on to life when life itself and the living of it is one big machine that works
assiduously at killing you with each second that passes.
What’s the point? How does that even make sense? Who started
this conspiracy? Who is weaving this shroud?
Those who choose death find an irresistible peace in the
thought of going to a place and finding some quiet at last.
Maybe they believe they've had more than enough of some
trauma or just don’t feel inclined to take on some future discomfort. Who are we
to judge?
So the lute from death begins to diffuse some irresistible
melody.
Those who choose death decide to lay their burdens down,
shed their mortality, close their droopy soul-eyes, and sleep. Deeply.
Those who choose death know that all death is, is letting
the soul take a long, undisturbed slumber.
It is the method of exit that’s the problem.
Of course I realize that for many people, the terror of death is because they are not sure about whats on the other side. I am, but if you worry about hell fire, I'm not about to disabuse your mind of the notion, your welcome to hug the knowledge to yourself.
Still, I'm tempted to ask you how you can think God to be loving and merciful on the one hand, then think him capable of burning souls for eternity because of a sin or sins they committed within 80 years or less.
I don't get that, and I doubt that those who chose death worry about that.
