Questions of Mortality

When I was twelve years old I had just started taking dance at a new dance school. This dance school was located in a church. While we were in dance classes there would also be other things taking place like Bible studies, children in childcare, pastors in meetings, etc. On one of the first weeks of dance we all stopped in the middle of a routine because we all heard a scream. The kind of scream I have only since heard, as a nurse, when death is close. To make a very log story short. I and two other girls, I barely knew, did CPR on a three year old little girl who had suffered a traumatic brain injury. She had just been playing with a playhouse in the nursery area. We were the only people in the entire church that knew how to, or were able to, perform CPR. I had just completed a safe sitter course. Never thought, in a million years, I would ever have to use it. The little girl passed away. Nothing we did could have saved her. In God’s great sovereignty, what could have and should have broken me, did not. It defined me and my future.

As a twelve year old face to face with death, living in the moments that feel like hours, understanding what people say when they use phrases like, “it was out of body,” or “I completely felt the Holy Spirit because it was not me moving” was a reality to me. My relationship with Jesus was already MY relationship with Jesus, but this was defining. I realize now, as an adult, with children the age I was when this happened, that it could have hardened me. Broken me. Created a lifetime of great anxiety. I also recognize God’s sweet sweet mercy in allowing it to refine and define who I would become. On that Monday night is when I tangibly realized my mortality. At twelve. I realized I don’t know how many days I have here on this earth. What do I want to do with those days? Do I want them to matter? Where will I go when these days are over? Where will the people I love go when their days are over? Should I be scared of this? Obviously these questions took time to get worked out, but as I worked them out I realized a few things. I knew who I served and why I served him. I knew that I don’t know when my days will be done, but I won’t live in fear of that, I won’t walk around like I live in a glass house fearful or anxious of how I might get hurt or hurt. It is inevitable in this broken world. What I will do is make sure that I am not ruled by fear or anxiousness, but am ruled by the joy and the hope that I have, because I know whose I am and where I am going when my days are done.

People often joke that I laugh at all the things or am just super laid back. While that is for sure a bit of a personality trait, it also is a direct result of that Monday night. I heard the screams of a mother lose her three year old. I saw that sweet baby’s body knowing her spirit was not on earth anymore. If its not life or death, I’m going to work really hard to not make it a bigger deal then it needs to be because its not actually worth my mental energy.

My very favorite author is Elisabeth Elliot. One of my favorite humans is Jim Elliot because of the way he lived his life with complete abandon to what he believed. I told Clay last night I don’t think humans are made like Jim and Elisabeth anymore. We don’t have the fortitude and singleness of mind (I’d argue its because of things like social media and how its killing a generation, but that’s a blog for another day). A couple years ago I read in the Shadow of the Almighty, which is written by Elisabeth Elliot, but the book is primarily Jim’s letters to Elisabeth, friends and family leading up to his martyrdom by the Auca tribe. When I read it two years ago I found my all time favorite quote. I think it would be random to some, but as soon as I read it I realized it was exactly what I learned almost twenty-five years before. It is actually an Oswald Chambers quote paraphrased by Jim. It says, “you are immortal until your work here is done.”

I don’t do anything super fast, but once I make a decision, watch out…ish is getting done! After two years of thinking (and way longer of swearing I’d NEVER get a tattoo) I decided the gentle reminder each day, in the mundane work of motherhood (although my house its literally a zoo) and the risky work of missions, this reminder is valuable. I have nothing to fear because my work is important and valuable and will not return void, but also, I’m not in charge of when it is done.

Also, sorry mom….didn’t give you any warning on this one. Won’t do it again.