Are you afraid to die?

Suffering a stroke is as close as I can come to a death experience, I think. One loses sensation, speech and specific awareness. Your mind is trying to think, but can't form words; the lips will move, but only groans exit.

My daughter drove me to hospital emergency and I can't even remember her driving to this day. I was not afraid. I just wasn't aware of any real sensation of life or death. It was like reaching out into nothingness, if you can imagine that.

Cheers,

Jim

PS My strokes were brought on by diabetes, so mind your weight, bloodsugars and execise. A stroke is something I would not wish on my worst enemy.

 

Someone once asked D.L.Moody this question and I think he said it best. He said that when God was ready for him he would give him dying grace. I would say that even though I am a christian I can't truthfully say that dying doesn't scare me. Even though I am a christian, I am human and the human part of me is alittle afraid of the unknown. I know that when my time comes that the Lord will give me the dying grace I need to no longer be afraid. Until then I will live my life as best that I know how to glorify Him. ~Sheila~

 

I am sorry it seemed I was dim and gloomy. I only meant through all the obstacles there was Hope. When nothing seemed like it could get any better....God gave His Son for me. When things were dismal Gods mercy and grace and love covers me. When I am weak....He is strong. When sometimes lifes cycles seem as tho there are no ends.....My Father God lifts me up, dust me off, and sends me out, all over again.

How could I be afraid of that. I would gladly trade this world for the eternal time with the Lord.

I am just a tourist in this world.

And Helen I loved your story.

Sherrie

 

My Dad was a member of our church for 46 years... He was a deacon and church clerk and nothing was more important to him than the house of God... He was a song leader and anytime anyone needed any help of any kind Dad was there... He lived his belief until the day he died. He wanted to do for others as the Lord had blest him and never thought of his needs.

About seven years ago his health started declining and almost overnight he went from a vibrant deacon who did it all to a man suffering from dementia... A form of Alzheimers and went down hill very quick and the last time he was in the hospital in February of 1996 he had willed himself to die. He didn't want to be a burden to anyone and I remember talking to him when I was younger and that is one thing he feared.

This man stopped eating and refused to take anything intravenously or orally and shut his system down. I believe to this day that he was given dying grace and was safe in the arms of Jesus before his spirit left his body... He never groaned and was never in any pain and was never given any drug according to my Mothers wishes and his desires that was in a living will before he got sick. Like the Apostle Paul said I have fought the good fight... I have kept the faith... Now I'm ready to be offered up!... I pray to God my testimony is that strong when it comes my time to face death!... Brother Glen

 

I can't ever remember being afraid of death.

I have done alot of stupid things that were a risk to my life. I enjoy doing risky things. I am more practical about it now though, just out of maturity.

I still plan to continue living a full life, in my opinion. At this time I am single, no kids. When the time comes when I have people relying on me, I will be a little more cautious. I have taught alot of people sports like climbing and rappelling, I am safer now just for the fact that I teach people to be safe, but it isn't as fun.

For those who know what a belay is in rappelling, I used to (and probably will again sometime) rappell without a belayer because the risk of life made it more of a rush. I have been a believer since I was 7, so I have known where I will go if I die.

 

Jim 1999 wrote:

Jim

Been there and done that myself for the same reason--diabetes. I don't remember much about the first stroke itself (actually have had two). My wife thought I was acting wierd and called the ambulance, and off to the hospital I went. I don't remember any thing for about 3 days. Upon coming to my senses, I realized I had suffered a good bit of nerve damage on the right side. The doctor suggested getting an old car and taking it apart and putting it back together for therapy and for the most part it worked, my brain found new pathways to send messages. I still stumble and fall sometimes, and I shake hands left handed, but otherwise pretty well recovered from it. I went on insulin, and lost 92 pounds, and walk 2-5 miles a day. Get that exercise folks, even if it doesn't extend your life, you meet all sorts of folks to chat with, and generally feel better.

I knew I was having the second stroke when it happened, it wasn't nearly as bad as the first one. If you want to compare notes drop me a line.

Jeff

 

Jeff:

Good to hear from you and that you have moved along from your strokes. That is what we must do. When we surrender, we lose everything.

It took me three years to get my speech back. My right side was also paralyzed, but I shuffle along quite well. A year ago, I suffered a second series of strokes which took my left hand. I type by posing my hands over the keyboard and literally dropping them onto the keys. You become quite inventive after a stroke, especially if you are stubborn.

I preached my first sermon exactly three years to the month after my first series of strokes. That was a major accomplishment for me. I can't do much with my hands. It takes two hands working together to just twist a screwdriver. I can't handwrite and I can only read for fifteen minutes at a time,,a book that is. I miss reading the most.

Cheers, and God bless you and lift you up in Himself

Jim

 

Wow Abiyah. Thank you for posting that. I feel like you let me see inside another part of who you are.

As for me, sometimes It scares me, sometimes it doesn't. Sometimes I want to go, sometimes I want to stay.

 

I agree with those who said (and implied) that it isn't death that scares me, it's dying. And even that's only sometimes. And it's mostly about the pain. I'm not big on pain, so that's what gets me. I don't want to die in a long, drawn out fashion. I'd like it to be quick.

When nearly everyone up here was freaking out and ducking down to avoid the sniper, I wasn't among them. Not that I wanted to get shot, mind, but because I didn't see the necessity of ducking and such. The odds of me being shot were, come on, pretty low. Every time I got out of my car for two weeks, I just thought, "okay, if this is it, I'm ready." No, I didn't relish the idea of dying from a gunshot, but if it was to be me, I was ready for it. But I didn't skulk around or duck because I don't ever want to live my life in that much fear. Be cautious, sure. I figured out the best filling station to go to, and stood between the pump and my car, but I didn't shy away from going about my daily business.

No, I'm not afraid to die. And really, I'm not afraid of pain. I'd rather not experience too much of it, and I'm sure I wouldn't enjoy all that much of it, but I'm not afraid of feeling it.