This post was prompted by @Get Off My Lawn 's GREAT and funny thread about Hemorrhoids. I had to laugh about middle school humor. There is something just pleasant and crudely funny about all that. I loved the thread, mostly because 1) I guess I am still 12 years old at heart and 2) I really am fond of many of the guys posting/talking.
I started to post this in the thread itself, but decided to put it here, b/c I did not want to be a wet blanket. It really is not "sad" nor "sobering" nor any of that stuff. However, I know the "normal" response is to have no idea how liberating and happy it is to look at a crazy thread like that, see a bunch of clowns laughing about issues that remind me of fart jokes, and genuinely laugh with you and enjoy the thread.... all the time thinking "this is what will likely kill you." My own lower intestinal issues are slowly progressing, to where I am passing blood just about every time I go to the bathroom, which is quite frequently these days. No real pain, though I get some cramping feelings sometimes. It is, I believe, quite a mercy, that God would implant within me a constant reminder that I am mortal and likely to end my life in the foreseeable future. The innermost thoughts of man is that our lives are forever. This is scriptural and a truism. I don't think of my life as finite, or at least think of death as "out there way out there after I have done this and that and this and that." The realization that I may well die within the next few years (colon cancer is slow moving in itself), or again, God could decide to extend my life beyond the "normal" expectations of a man in my state... these are healthy thoughts, and not morbid.
They are also filled with joy, as they force me to rethink the gospel. Do I really believe it? Do I *KNOW* the mighty righteousness of Christ applied to my account, so that I do not fear shrinking back in shame when I pass over? Am I filled with confidence rather than nervousness (hint: the answer we want comes from asking the question!)? Seeing my own mortality as staring me in the face here is not "sad" nor scary nor morbid. We say in the Apostle's Creed that he "was crucified under Pontius Pilate, died and was buried. He descended into hell" "Hell" is not the lake of fire or second death here, but the OT picture of the realm of death (hebrew word was "sheol", Gk "hades", and a world of disembodied, murky, quasi-alive beings in a semi captive state). Jesus busted death wide open from the inside. If you want a picture of a TRUE badass, think if Jesus as someone marching into the most fortified POW camp ever, bristling with power and weapons, and then doing a Rambo that Rambo could never touch with all of Hollywood's screen effects, and blowing the doors off the hinges, leading out his prisoners, after he has mocked and insulted the prison guards. Death has lost its fear, its power and its sting, and it is GOOD for me to be forced to think about it. I am "like" those older testament pow s, who could turn and spit in the face of their former captors as they marched out the gates. They could do so, not because they were especially pious, or "dedicated" or some junk like that, but simply because of who was the Rambo. Death is dead.
I have a scope coming in a few weeks and my wife is wanting my daughter to be with us, as she is fearing a "bad" call. Frankly, so am I. Would I like to see my one year old grandson, to see my granddaughter (12 years old and already beautiful) marry and have kids, to see my 10 year old grandson learn to shoot and hunt and grow to be a man, to see Micah develop as far as he can, and to enjoy the best woman in the world a few more years? Those are idiot questions. Of course I would! But facing all this is the awareness that I had RATHER face what is left of my life (whatever that is), in the awareness that in the end. I win. That is it. In the end, I win, whether that "end" is imminent (which I suspect), or whether I am being melodramatic and will wind up living another 20 years or more.
That is how one can spit in the face of death. If there is one thing I would wish for every person in this forum, it is that.
I started to post this in the thread itself, but decided to put it here, b/c I did not want to be a wet blanket. It really is not "sad" nor "sobering" nor any of that stuff. However, I know the "normal" response is to have no idea how liberating and happy it is to look at a crazy thread like that, see a bunch of clowns laughing about issues that remind me of fart jokes, and genuinely laugh with you and enjoy the thread.... all the time thinking "this is what will likely kill you." My own lower intestinal issues are slowly progressing, to where I am passing blood just about every time I go to the bathroom, which is quite frequently these days. No real pain, though I get some cramping feelings sometimes. It is, I believe, quite a mercy, that God would implant within me a constant reminder that I am mortal and likely to end my life in the foreseeable future. The innermost thoughts of man is that our lives are forever. This is scriptural and a truism. I don't think of my life as finite, or at least think of death as "out there way out there after I have done this and that and this and that." The realization that I may well die within the next few years (colon cancer is slow moving in itself), or again, God could decide to extend my life beyond the "normal" expectations of a man in my state... these are healthy thoughts, and not morbid.
They are also filled with joy, as they force me to rethink the gospel. Do I really believe it? Do I *KNOW* the mighty righteousness of Christ applied to my account, so that I do not fear shrinking back in shame when I pass over? Am I filled with confidence rather than nervousness (hint: the answer we want comes from asking the question!)? Seeing my own mortality as staring me in the face here is not "sad" nor scary nor morbid. We say in the Apostle's Creed that he "was crucified under Pontius Pilate, died and was buried. He descended into hell" "Hell" is not the lake of fire or second death here, but the OT picture of the realm of death (hebrew word was "sheol", Gk "hades", and a world of disembodied, murky, quasi-alive beings in a semi captive state). Jesus busted death wide open from the inside. If you want a picture of a TRUE badass, think if Jesus as someone marching into the most fortified POW camp ever, bristling with power and weapons, and then doing a Rambo that Rambo could never touch with all of Hollywood's screen effects, and blowing the doors off the hinges, leading out his prisoners, after he has mocked and insulted the prison guards. Death has lost its fear, its power and its sting, and it is GOOD for me to be forced to think about it. I am "like" those older testament pow s, who could turn and spit in the face of their former captors as they marched out the gates. They could do so, not because they were especially pious, or "dedicated" or some junk like that, but simply because of who was the Rambo. Death is dead.
I have a scope coming in a few weeks and my wife is wanting my daughter to be with us, as she is fearing a "bad" call. Frankly, so am I. Would I like to see my one year old grandson, to see my granddaughter (12 years old and already beautiful) marry and have kids, to see my 10 year old grandson learn to shoot and hunt and grow to be a man, to see Micah develop as far as he can, and to enjoy the best woman in the world a few more years? Those are idiot questions. Of course I would! But facing all this is the awareness that I had RATHER face what is left of my life (whatever that is), in the awareness that in the end. I win. That is it. In the end, I win, whether that "end" is imminent (which I suspect), or whether I am being melodramatic and will wind up living another 20 years or more.
That is how one can spit in the face of death. If there is one thing I would wish for every person in this forum, it is that.
