What do you fear most? I would think some people would answer with one of those polysyllabic words that all end with the letters “phobia.” There are quite a few of them between agoraphobia and xenophobia. More of us would say something like, “I’m afraid of public speaking,” or “I fear snakes, or spiders, or loud noises.” As children quite a few of us would say we were afraid of the dark.
Is fear ever appropriate? Certainly! Recently I heard someone say, “Fear is wisdom’s response to danger.” I agree with that. I recall my dad, who worked with elevator repair and maintenance, telling me that it was old electricians who got electrocuted. He could tell I didn’t get what he was driving at, so he explained, “Young electricians have a healthy fear of electricity. The longer you work around it with no incidents, the less you fear it. That is when accidents happen.” I can still hear him say those words “healthy fear.” Earlier, when we mentioned the word “phobia,” we were speaking of what might be called unhealthy fear. That begs the question, how do you tell the difference?
I have been contemplating that question lately. I have cortico-basal degeneration or CBD. One of the first things I learned about it was there is no treatment. You don’t recover from this. Though I have looked at enough information on the internet to fill a small library, I have found no stories of spontaneous remission, no obscure treatment which has snatched the afflicted out the grip of this terrible disease. You might say I am on a one-way street that will end at the cemetery. Should I fear death? Well, yes and no. The no part of that answer has to do with my faith. As an evangelical I believe that Jesus was and is the Son of God who died for the sins of the whole world, even mine. He bodily rose from the dead, declaring victory over death, hell and the grave. All I have to do is admit I’m a sinner in need of a Savior and ask Him to be mine. That means I can say with the Apostle Paul, “O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?...Thank God! He gives us victory over sin and death through our Lord Jesus Christ” (1 Corinthians 15:55, 57). Some reading this will be saying, “He’s getting a bit preachy here.” Well, I can’t help it. I was a pastor all of my adult life. Beyond that, this is the bottom line when it comes to life, death, and eternity. That is why I can say I don’t fear death. But if you glance back a few sentences you will see my answer to whether I should fear death had a yes before the no.
Everybody wants to go to heaven; we all just want to put off the trip as long as possible! My reason for fearing death is not so much about the destination as the trip. I am a member of a Facebook group that is centered around CBD. Most of the posts, it seems to me, are written by the caregivers of people with the disease. They are looking for advice about dealing with problems they have encountered and for a sense of community with others going through the same ordeal. Routinely there are descriptions of truly heart-breaking scenes of suffering. Often there will be what you might call “before and after” pictures of the patient prior to their illness and what they look like after the ravages of CBD. Anyone with a drop of compassion would be touched by these pictures. It takes on a whole different meaning when you are looking at your future. Between now and heaven there will be an awfully rough road. One of my neurologists, perhaps in a moment of candor, said, “CBD is a really hard way to die.”
One of my traveling companions down CBD avenue recently commented on Facebook, “Every night I pray for it to be my last.” Before CBD I could not have understood that perspective. Now I can. Don’t worry, just because I am praying for this to end, it doesn’t mean I’m suicidal. It’s just that if death is inevitable, and the average CBD patient will become immobile, totally dependent, and dealing with relentless pain, why not check out? I’ll be honest with you, I fear what CBD will do to me before God loosens its grip through death. The thought that keeps haunting me is, would I rather have a slow but steady decline over a couple of years or a swift end to things in a couple of months? If God were to give me those two options, I would take the swift end.
Of course, God has not given me a choice. In all likelihood I will slowly decline and go through the pain those portrayed in those “after” pictures I wrote about earlier. If that is the case what good could possibly come of it? I was thinking about that the other morning when I opened a favorite devotional book, Morning and Evening by Charles Spurgeon. I have read a few biographies of this 19th century English Baptist and knew that he had both physical and emotional pain to deal with, especially the last decade of his life. That gave his words a ring of personal authenticity. On the entry for April 8th he wrote, “Are you conscious of a growing failure of your bodily powers? Do you expect to suffer long nights of languishing and days of pain? O be not sad! That bed may become a throne to you. You little know how every pang that shoots through your body may be a refining fire to consume your dross … a beam of glory to light up the secret parts of your soul.” On reflection, I would have to agree with Spurgeon. CBD, while destroying me physically, has strengthened me spiritually. I don’t believe that is all God was up to in this ordeal, but I do recognize that all of this has driven me closer to my Lord.
Beyond the impact of CBD on me, I feel it has impacted those around me. Just how will Pastor Corn handle all of this? Will he become bitter through this, or will he endure it with a measure of grace? I want to die well, but the sum of my fears is that I won’t. I have been a preacher all of my adult life. In a sense, how I handle CBD will be my last sermon. I pray it will be a good one, one which glorifies my Savior and leaves those who heard the message saying, “If God can do that with Pastor Corn, He can do it with anybody, even me.”
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