Dying to Live

 “Death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies inside us while we live.” ~Norman Cousins, American essayist and editor (1912-1990)

He was seated at the foot of his bed, legs crossed, staring out the window.  “Hi Bobby,” the nurse’s voice chimed as she came through the door, announcing her arrival.  “How are you feeling” she asked, adjusting the IV bags.  “I feel a little queasy,” Bobby replied glancing away from the window.  “The chemo will do that sometimes,” Nurse Johnson responded reassuringly. 

She finished her cursory inspection and, after giving the room a last once over, she headed for the door.

“Nancy,” Bobby said abruptly.  Nurse Johnson turned in the doorway meeting Bobby’s gaze.  The boy’s luminescent blue eyes shone from his hairless face and scalp. “What is it Bobby?”  After a moment, Bobby swallowed hard; “Am I going to die?” Bobby asked quietly, his blue eyes glistening.  The nurse paused for a moment; she walked to the bed and sat on the edge next to Bobby.  She cradled Bobby’s hand in both of hers.  “Yes,” she said simply, “It looks that way.” 

Bobby thought for a moment, staring at the ceiling.  “Please don’t tell my parents,” he said finally, and before Nurse Johnson could respond, “They couldn’t handle it,” he concluded.

Nurse Johnson sat there staring at the eight-year old boy who seemed wise beyond his years. With his hairless head and his eyes like deep, quiet pools, he resembled a Buddhist Monk quietly contemplating eternity.  The nurse helped Bobby take a drink of water, patted him on the shoulder, then rose, adjusted his pillow, and headed for the door. 

“Nancy,” Bobby stopped her with his voice.  Nurse Johnson turned.  “Can I go home?” he asked.  Nancy Johnson looked at him for a moment.  “It would be better if we could treat you here,” she offered.  “I think I want to go home,” Bobby said to the ceiling.  Then he turned his head to look at Nancy. 

“I would rather die at home living my life than die here fighting for my life.”

The Christian mystics had a secret. Simply put: Today might be your last day. While this may sound morbid, the Gospel writers spend a good bit of time talking about “preparedness” and what happens to those who are not prepared.  Five times in the Gospels Jesus says, “Stay awake!”

As Christian Stewards, how do we act out this understanding that “Today might be our last day?” First, we must to come to the realization that time is precious and not to be wasted. We waste time being jealous, holding on to resentments, trying to satiate our egos and our appetites. Pursuit of self-gratification is wasteful, too.

Not wasting time is only a first step. Spending time well is the second step. Bobby was right when he chose to stop “fighting for his life.” Many of us spend our time “fighting for our lives.” One Saint spoke of the “four distractions” – pleasure, power, prestige and possessions. Struggling to acquire these things because they make us feel validated is, in effect, fighting for our life. 

There is an expression: “Every glass must break.”  Things which are fragile and valuable will ultimately cease to exist.  By accepting that their existence is finite, we stop taking them for granted and learn to enjoy them more fully. In so doing, we help eliminate regret and can more readily accept when they do finally “break.”     

Life is like that and Christian Stewards recognize it.  It is only when we grasp the inevitability of death that life takes on its full value and meaning.  When we see life for the gift that it is, when we see it as something of great value, we treat it with the attention and respect it deserves.  We love more deeply, we speak more kindly, and we offer forgiveness we would otherwise deny.

If we can learn to take care of our lives, we can also learn to enjoy them as well.  And we learn to accept the finality of life without regret.

Bobby, with the untainted wisdom of an eight-year old, understood this too.  He spent the last six weeks of his life with his parents and his brothers and sisters.  He played ball with his dogs and felt the green grass under his bare feet.  He played board games with the neighbor kids and had dinner at the dining room table every evening with his parents.  He died living his life – a very valuable life.*

Dear God: Help me to live!

"And I loved deeper and I spoke sweeter,  And I gave forgiveness I'd been denying. An' he said: "Some day, I hope you get the chance, To live like you were dyin'."  ~Tim McGraw:  “Live Like You Were Dying”

*Special thanks to all those who work in Children’s Hospice and Palliative Care.

 ©2012 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.

“90 Second Stewardship” is a reflection on being a Christian Steward in a secular and sometimes harsh world. This reflection is written by James E. Carper of Simi Valley, California. All rights are reserved. You are welcome and encouraged to forward this e-mail to family and friends provided the”© 2012 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.” is included along with this message. Organizations, whether for or non profit, are required to receive written approval before reproducing these reflections. If written approval is given the “© 2012 James E. Carper. All rights reserved.” must be included along with this message.