Tag: death

Posted in Through the Bible Devotions

What are you doing here?

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Kenny Eliason on Unsplash

Some “through the bible” thoughts from Luke 24.

“Why do you seek the living among the dead?”

We do it all the time:

  • Turn the key one more time, even though the starter won’t even click because the car battery is dead.
  • We search around through containers of fuzzy leftover food in the refrigerator, hoping to find something edible.
  • Birds build a nest in a flower pot near my front door. I went out to see the eggs every day, until the day when there weren’t any. I don’t think they hatched. I think a lizard ate them. But I still peeked in every day or so, just to make sure I didn’t miss new ones.
  • When I need some help shopping in a big box store, I futilely scan every aisle to find someone in a blue or orange vest. Not a single soul to be found.
  • I show up at someone’s house for a visit. I called ahead to set up a time. Upon arrival, no one answers the doorbell and then a knock. I peer in the windows around the door. No lights are on. No one is home. They forgot.
  • Why do many return to cemeteries after the burial of a loved one? To complete unfinished conversations? To have the last word? To keep memories alive?

Just like the women who showed up at to tomb at early dawn on the first day of the week, we go to places of death. The angels who appeared are surprised to see the women. “Why do you seek the living among the dead?” Don’t you remember what he told you? Don’t you remember how the prediction of his crucifixion was followed by the promise of resurrection? What are you doing here?

We can’t help it. Death is the end of the story for leftovers, batteries, and human life. Until Jesus rewrites the ending. Until we encounter an empty tomb. Until we remember what he said.

Where will you look for life today?

Posted in Through the Bible Devotions

A few more years

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Richard Burlton on Unsplash

A “through the Bible” devotion from Isaiah 38.

Hezekiah is one of Judah’s better kings. According to the writer of Kings, “he did what was right in the eyes of the Lord, according to all that David his father had done” (2 Kings 18:3). He purged idolatry from Judah and restored worship of the one true God. When threatened by the Assyrians, he turned to God for salvation.

When an illness threatens his life, Hezekiah also turned to God. He prays, “O Lord…restore me to health and make me live!” (Isaiah 38:16) God hears his prayer and gives him fifteen more years of life.

However, during those fifteen bonus years, his son Manasseh is born, arguably one of Judah’s worst kings, doing evil in the sight of the Lord (2 Kings 21:2). He assumes the throne at age twelve, and undoes all the good his father did. Because of his actions, God declares he will bring disaster on Jerusalem and Judah (2 Kings 21:11,12).

Would things have turned out differently if Hezekiah had not lived those fifteen additional years? What if Manasseh had not been born? What if another son had become king and continued Hezekiah’s spiritual reforms?

Early on in my ministry in Florida, a ninety-year old member fell off a stool while having his picture taken for a church directory. He was in serious condition, but recovered and lived fifteen more years. However, over the next fifteen years, his son and daughter became embroiled in disagreements, hearings, and lawsuits about the care of their parents. At one point, seven different lawyers were involved as the courts decided who would get power of attorney, guardianship, and control of the assets. In the end, I believe the lawyers ended up with most of the estate. Sure, he lived to one hundred and five years, but the family conflict continues twenty some years later.

There’s got to be a lesson somewhere in this. We pray for health, healing, and long lives, not knowing what will happen down the road. Sometimes, God grants our request. But sometimes he doesn’t. Did you ever stop to think that the latter might be better?

All of that gives you a lot to think about. But don’t overthink it. God knows the number of your days, and has a purpose for short and long lives, from conception to last breath. Be grateful for today. Enjoy his daily morning mercies (Lamentations 3:22,23).

Posted in death, Life

A final farewell

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Alexander Grey on Unsplash

The text came in the middle of my garage workout. Someone was in the hospital in hospice care, and I should go see them.

I’ve been retired from full-time ministry and the message came to me from someone I hadn’t seen in over a decade through another person I haven’t had contact with in over a year.

I didn’t respond.

More texts followed. “It’s not going to be long.” “They wanted you to know.” “You have to hurry, they are 100% going to pass.” “We’re going up there now.”

My wife was in the text group, and when poked she her head into the garage, I said, “Yeah, I saw it. Where are they?” We glanced through the texts until we found a location mentioned that doesn’t even exist. Hmm. Not helpful.

Feeling a bit convicted, I texted the current pastor and found out where she was. She was in a hospice care facility, not a hospital. I knew exactly where it was.

But I didn’t rush down. I know from experience that dying in palliative care often takes time. The dying will be comfortable but unconscious, and I will spend time talking with the family. Which in this case, were some who weren’t fond of me in the past. So I confess, I dragged my feet a little.

When I arrived, I greeted a daughter and her husband, a stepson and his wife, a couple of grandchildren and a great grandson. The husband was not there. They told me, “He just couldn’t do it.”

I understand, but I don’t understand. They had thirty-plus years of marriage behind them. Wouldn’t this be the “worse” that goes along with the “better?” But, I reminded myself, everyone deals with this differently.

The visit went okay. I said a prayer, chatted with the family a little, and left them to be with each other. My old friend wasn’t conscious, was comfortable, breathing slowly, and not yet close to death. She would receive good care for another day or two from amazing caretakers.

I glad I went. I’ve heard that the last sense we lose is hearing, so the person dying can hear and be comforted by those talking to them. So I’m glad I got to talk to her one last time. The folks who texted me? I don’t think they ever got there.

Posted in Through the Bible Devotions

You’ll be missed

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Aron Lesin on Unsplash

A “through the bible” devotion from 2 Chronicles 20 and 23.

As I write this I am getting ready to officiate and preach at a memorial service. Family and friends will gather with tears of sadness and smiles of remembrance. It’s a bittersweet moment to say goodbye to a loved one, and release them to the care of the Lord.

Do you want to read something sad? How about this description of the end of King Jehoram’s reign: “He departed with no one’s regret” (2 Chronicles 21:20).

Or how about these words after the death of Queen Athalia: “So all the people of the land rejoiced, and the city was quiet after Athaliah had been put to death with the sword” (2 Chronicles 23:21).

What do you think it’s like to be someone no one will miss? What would it be like to be a person whose death no one grieves? I guess it happens every day. I’m sure there are those who are glad when the homeless population decreases. Few grieve the John or Jane Doe who dies on the street.

The pendulum swings both ways. Some can’t stop grieving the death of a loved one. They continue to celebrate birthdays and feel the emptiness of holidays for many years after a funeral. On the other hand, for others, life goes on without the deceased. They are not forgotten, but they only occasionally come to mind.

I can assure you of this: you’ll be missed. You have no idea how many peoples’ lives you’ve touched and the difference you’ve made. There will never be another you. You’ll be missed.

Posted in Through the Bible Devotions

That’s a nasty way to die

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Brian Wangenheim on Unsplash

A “through the bible devotion” from 2 Chronicles 21.

All of a sudden, as I’m reading through Chronicles thinking, “I’ve heard all this before,” this leaps out at me:

After all this the Lord struck [Jehoram] in his bowels with an incurable disease. In the course of time, at the end of two years, his bowels came out because of the disease, and he died in great agony (2 Chronicles 21:19).

Yuk. That wasn’t in Kings. Come to think of it, neither was Asa’s terminal illness:

In the thirty-ninth year of his reign Asa was diseased in his feet, and his disease became severe. Yet even in his disease he did not seek the Lord, but sought help from physicians. And Asa slept with his fathers, dying in the forty-first year of his reign (2 Chronicles 16:12,13).

So of course I wonder, “Who else died a gruesome death?”

  • Jezebel got thrown out a window (2 Kings 9:33).
  • Sheba had his head cut off and thrown over a city wall (2 Samuel 20:22).
  • When King Herod got a little too full of himself, God struck him down and “he was eaten by worms and breathed his last” (Acts 12:23).
  • Jael drove a tent peg through Sisera’s head (Judges 4:21).

And of course, crucifixion is a horrible way to die.

I love to ask middle-school students, “What would be the worst way to die?” They answer everything from getting eaten by a shark to being seal in an oil drum to sitting naked on a fire ant pile. They like to hear vivid biblical descriptions like those above.

I guess that’s one way to get them into God’s Word!

Posted in Through the Bible Devotions

Fifteen more years

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Carl Tronders on Unsplash

A “through the bible” devotion from 2 Kings 20.

What would you do if you knew when you would die?

When King Hezekiah gets sick, the prophet Isaiah tells him to get his affairs in order. It’s terminal. He’s going to die.

After Hezekiah prays and weeps, Isaiah comes back and says, “Good news. God is going to give you fifteen more years to live!” (2 Kings 20:6). As a sign to Hezekiah, God makes the sun’s shadow move backwards. Yes, Hezekiah, it’s for real.

How would you live if you knew you had fifteen more years ahead of you? I think that much time makes the question a little harder to answer. It’s one thing when the doctor says, “Three to six months,” or perhaps another year. Fifteen years is a long time.

Would it take you fifteen years to get through your bucket list? Or would you coast until you got to the last year to tie up loose ends?

Would you still try to take care of yourself? Or would you cancel the gym membership you don’t use and eat whatever you want? For a while – exactly fifteen years – you’re immortal.

At what point would you begin to sweat? When would you start to worry about your demise? What would you think about in year fifteen? After all, you don’t know how you’ll die, just when.

I believe it’s better not to know. The psalmist prays, “Teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom” (Psalm 90:12). Embrace your mortality, accept the uncertainty of life and death, and make the most of today.

Posted in dying, Life

One more time: visiting a friend in hospice

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash

I went to visit some old friends the other day. They are living in a beautiful assisted living facility just a few miles from my home. He’s been getting some physical therapy and is getting around really well. She is receiving hospice care, and her family told me she only had a day or two left to live.

Hoping that she would be lucid, I went to visit her right after I spoke with her daughter. Though confined to a bed, she was awake, comfortable, conversant, witty, and all smiles. She had every reason to be. She had all four of her daughters there with her. When I walked in, they were singing one of her favorite hymns, “For All the Saints.” Her two sons had been there the week before. I was thankful I had this chance to sit and talk with her for a while.

That was five days ago. Death isn’t an exact science. It’s inevitable, but it’s not predicable. We’ll just have to extend grace to the hospice folks when they answer the question, “How long does she have?” She’s not conscious anymore, but she’s comfortable and listening to all the conversations going on around her.

Whenever I’ve asked people about the best way to die, I often get the answer, “In my sleep.” On the one hand, that sounds like a great way to go. But on the other hand, you might miss out on all those precious moments you get to spend with friends and family. When death comes unexpectedly or accidentally, many wish they could have seen or talked to them one more time. A few days in hospice provides a lot of “one more times.”

My dad was in and out of hospice care the last few years of his life. My brother, sister, and I had a lot of “one more times” with him as he flirted with death but kept bouncing back. I think he enjoyed the attention and company when it looked like his time was up.

I like going to visit someone who’s in hospice care. When the finish line is in sight, the conversations are meaningful, the desire for life is powerful, and every moment is precious.

Posted in Life

A happy ending? Not yet.

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Juri Gianfrancesco on Unsplash

“Hey, Bill!”

I turned my head and saw a young man coming out of the coffee shop behind me. My face must have announced, “Who are you?” so he called out, “It’s J.”

I’m good with names and don’t forget faces, but he looked a lot different than the last time I saw him. His head was shaved and his beard was about three inches long. Was it his eyes? Or his smile? Suddenly I recognized him. It had been at least two years since I had talked with him and his wife.

“Wow,” I said, “How have you been?”

He kept smiling but I could tell from the look in his eyes that it was going to be tough to answer that question.

“Well,” he began, “J. (his wife) and I had a son. His name is Josiah. He is amazing.”

He paused and I had the feeling his story was about to take a turn for the worse.

“After Josiah was born, J. had postpartum depression. She was in the hospital for a month. Then she had a really bad day, and she took her life.”

J.’s words hung in the air. I had no words. All I could do was look into his eyes, listening, trying to imagine how much strength it took to speak about that loss.

I thought about the young couple who had wandered into our church one Sunday morning. I remembered their hospitality when they invited me to their apartment for supper. I thought about the baby who would never know his mother. I wondered how J. was dealing with a life no one envisions.

I asked, “So, how are you?”

It had been six months since her death. J.’s chiropractic practice was doing well. He was working out at the gym two times a day six times a week. He had a strong network of doctors and pastors who were walking with him through this chapter of his life. At least for that moment, he was doing well.

Then he said, “Oh, and I have to tell you. If you have a chance, try the egg, ham, and gouda breakfast sandwich here. It’s is amazing.”

I know, a bit off topic. But I was still in shock, so I went with it. “Does that fit in with your nutritional guidance?” J. was bit into holistic health, especially eating right.

He chuckled and said, “Well, my bodybuilding workouts require 4,500 calories a day. This might not be the best, but it helps me towards that goal.”

I want to reach out to J. and learn more about his journey as a mourning husband and single father. I’ve written a few hundred words here. But he could write a whole book, right?

A happy ending? Not yet. But you never know.

Posted in death, Ministry

He’s dead.

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Kevin Andre on Unsplash

I glanced at my buzzing phone on a Tuesday night and saw that one of my elders was calling.

“Hello, Pastor. I have bad news. I was making my regular monthly calls and found out that B. died last week.”

I’m not often blind-sided, but that news caught me off guard. “What? What happened?”

“I was just talking to M. and I asked how her husband was doing and she said, ‘He’s dead.’ He passed a week ago. I know, I was shocked, too. He had complications after open heart surgery. I wanted to be sure you knew.”

“Thanks. I’ll get in touch with her.”

I called her right away. I said I was so sorry to hear the news about B. She explained that he came through the bypass surgery just fine, but had problems after he came home. It was probably a blood clot, followed by liver and kidney failure, and then death. He didn’t want any kind of service, but the family might do something in a few months when everyone could get together.

On the following Thursday morning, at a men’s bible study, I let the group know what happened so we could pray for the widow and her family. A retired pastor who is a part of our group and knew her said, “I spent an hour and a half on the phone with her yesterday. She said they are having a service on next week and asked me to do the memorial. I told her, ‘Why don’t you ask Pastor Bill?’ She explained, “We don’t go to that church anymore.'”

I was puzzled. Didn’t I just see them in church a few months ago? Okay, they were one of the Covid-cautious members who I didn’t see often. But I had spoken to them regularly over the past two years. In fact we had a great conversation the last time we talked.

I learned a long time ago not to take something like this personally. She was grieving to be sure. People deal with death in many different ways. M. also hadn’t reached out in any way when her husband had surgery, was recovering, had problems, or was dying. If you let me know, I go. I go to the hospital, to your home, to hospice, wherever. But you have to let me know.

As I learned from experience, those who show up in your congregation from another church will eventually disappear. It might be months. It might be years. But they will move on.

I want to say this didn’t bother me, but here I am writing about it three years later. I’ve had it in my drafts for a while, wondering if this was a story worth telling. Someone once told me that our ordinary moments will fascinate others. Maybe this is one of those moments.