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Thursday, February 18, 2016

Your DYing Spouse 121 - Near-Death Experience {FMF}

It's time for Five Minute Friday, the weekly keyword-driven timed writing challenge hosted by Kate Motaung.

This week's word is...well, I don't know yet. I'm writing in advance, because I nearly died forty-five minutes ago. I'm pretty shaky, and the dogs are freaked out.

Again, thank you to those who sent cards. I am shamefully far behind on email you. Please forgive me.

But please know that they mean the world to me. Truly.

Okay, here we go.

So what is dying like? Do you want to know?

I can't speak for everyone, I suppose, but in the last hour it was like this...I was praying that God let me get up - I was so very tired - and I slipped into a dream.

It was a golfing dream. Sheesh. I used to play that game, long ago.

It was with real people - people I knew, and who I either know or suspect are no longer living. They were much younger, as was I.

The course was a real place, and I could smell the grass, and recognize detail of which I hadn't thought...and haven't seen...in nearly forty years.

It was a nice, summery day. Not too warm, not too cold.

And as it went on, it became so very real...I could feel the texture of the ball as I held it, the wood-y feel of the golf tees, the rubber of the grips on the clubs.

There was nothing special, no epiphany. Just a nice day in the company of friends, things happening rather slowly, and I was waiting my turn to hit a tee shot.

Actually...and maybe this is significant...a 'do-over' at a shot I had mishit.

And then I cam back to a reality that felt more dreamlike than where I had just been.

I was so disappointed that I had not been able to take that swing...but if I had, I am convinced I would not have been able to return.

The offered do-over was my offer to come back here, or stay there.

On such simple things does life lie.

The understanding of what had happened was a cold blade...and the dogs were very, very solemn. They were scared, and I had some nervous pee to clean up. (Theirs, not mine!)

I didn't want to go. I did not want to go.

It's not that it was scary; it was nice. But there are things to do here. There's work to do, and there is help I can still give.

If there are skeptics out there, thinking, well, you passed out, and had a fever-dream...there was no dreamlike quality. I, as you, have had plenty of 'dreams'. This was something unique.

Was it oxygen deprivation? I can speak to that, as I have been deprived of oxygen, and had a 'dream' in that state...and it's quite different. This had structure, coherence, a future. The oxy-deprived hallucination was like being caught in a pale, nonsensical loop.

So the message I can bring you, from the other side, as it were, is that there's nothing to fear. The transition won't hurt.

You won't know that you made a transition...unless you go back.

And Heaven is not a place of static perfection. If you play golf...you'll still hit bad shots. I assume that if you fly aeroplanes, you can crash them. I'm looking forward to that.

And there are limits. You can only hit a golf ball so far. There is wind, and there are bad bounces.

But how could it be otherwise?. God made us to rise to challenges...will we hang up His careful work for Eternity?

It seems that we won't, and that we'll have fun facing the things that try our patience and test our skills now.

So there is this, that what we do here is important.

OUR LIVES HERE MATTER.

You may find that, however attractive the end of pain may be, however great the longing to be in God's presence, to see loved one's...

Duty will call you back.

Let it. It means you're not done.

And that's all.

The aftereffect of all this (I am writing a few words an hour later than the above) is exhaustion, a bit of disorientation, and the feeling of wanting to look carefully at everything around me.

And there's a lot of pain, and I'm puking...and I suspect that definitely means I'm still alive.

PS - Still upright, and learned that the prompt is REGRET.

Do I regret coming back? No.  There may be a longing for Heaven, yes, but I would not even put it as strongly as that. It's there, that's all, and one day I'll be there.

I might prefer to miss some things that lie ahead in this life, sure, but I can't say, I wish I were in Heaven now!

That would be kind of ungrateful for the here and now. All will come in its own time. I can live, and die, with that.

Oh, darn. Just learned it's FORGET.

Well, it's an experience I'll never forget. OK?

The musical inspiration for this post came from the Gin Blossoms...




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59 comments:

  1. Dear brother Andrew,
    Always so thankful so see your writing. Thankful that you shared about your experience. Glad that you are still with us but so sad that you are in such pain still my friend. We stand with you and bolster you up, sisters and brothers holding you close and lifting you up dear one. Thank you for this glimpse into a moment that must truly reflect the perfection of heaven.

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    1. Thank you for being here...it was quite an experience, and I hope that I've been able to convey the certainty of hope that it gave me. Makes the pain easier to deal with.

      I do feel the love and support...and as I write this, it's what is holding me upright.

      And, ok, I have a question I've been dying to ask...

      Well, maybe I should rephrase that...

      But why are your toes blue?

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  2. Andrew!
    I was so hoping when you teased at the FMF Party that you'd been to heaven that we'd get to hear about it. I was not disappointed in the slightest. It's wonderful! And God gave you this so you'd know it's not all harps and singing and hummingbirds. :D

    So overjoyed that you still have work to do with us and yet a fresh taste of hope and life and purpose. I am SO sorry you are puking still. I had a taste of that. Not the taste of blood, but the tastes were less than tasty. And, so thankful that you don't carry on or complain about it. I think you're stronger than most people.

    Mostly, you beat me. I thought I might stand a chance at first post, but some other time. Delighted to see you tweeting at the party and delighted for the life that God continues to give you here!

    Your forever friend,
    Tammy

    (Linked up at #3 this time)

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    1. Tammy, I'm glad it's not hummingbirds...for some reason, they DO NOT like me. I've been attacked by them.Rabbits and cows and cats and dogs run to me...kids, too...but hummingbirds...ugh.

      I'm so sorry you were ill. Puking sucks, though some of the dogs don't seem to mind...they'll dine on grass, and happily throw it back up, tails a-wagging. Weird.

      I enjoyed the FMF Twitter party. It was fun.

      And I intend to stay for as long as I can, Forever Friend!

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  3. Andrew, so happy you came back to us to tell of this journey. You made me laugh at the end with the prompts. I think Kate did a great job confusing all of us ;)
    You are greatly loved, both here and in the afterlife. I have been tempted to ask you before if you have had any "in between" type of moments. I guess this answers that. Call me morbid, but I find death fascinating to a very large degree, not because of the loss but because of the gain. I have sat heavy hearted in too many churches to count staring at an empty vessel and wondering what that person was doing up in Heaven with our Lord/Saviour/Redeemer. Getting a glimpse into your journey is beautiful. I wish I could take away the ugliness of it all for you while you continue to walk in this realm, I really do. Maybe you will go before us, maybe some of us will cross the line first, it's all in God's hands.
    Please don't forget that we love you and pray for you and Barbara every single day! <3 ((((hugs))))

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    1. Miranda, yeah...that Kate! She really pulled one!

      Finding death interesting is not morbid, because it's the necessary transition between the life we have, and the place where eternal sorrows are eternally consoled (in the words of C.S. Lewis).

      It;s right to be heavy-hearted on this side of the river, because we do miss those who have gone. Sorrow is part of the debt of love, and it's wrong to avoid it.

      There is ugliness...especially tonight!..but there's beauty, too, because one realizes that in an approaching end, all is NOT lost. God saves up all that we would hope to complete, and presents it to us when we meet Him.

      I never forget the love, Miranda...and we so appreciate the prayers!

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    2. Arg. Marisa, not Miranda! Sorry.

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  4. Andrew. I have no words. The pounding in my head distracts me. May your little glimpse of the real and true life beyond this right now sustain you in the days to come.

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    1. It does sustain, Marie...and please, take care of yourself! I pray for you...and I worry about you. You're loved.

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  5. Andrew, thank you for sharing your experience. Our lives here do matter. Not only for now, but for what's ahead. I can only imagine the look on your dogs's faces. (And thanks for clarifying about the pee! That made me chuckle. I continue to lift you in prayer daily, brother. You are loved.

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    1. Julie, thank you so much...the love keeps me going. I could never have imagined its depth, nor the strength it gives.

      The dogs are amazing...if I try to write for too long, I am gently pushed away from the computer...and if she can't see me, Denali the Happy Husky goes nuts as only a Husky can.

      We so appreciate the prayers!

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  6. Lifting you up in prayer, my friend. I'll pray for your non-human people, too.

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    1. Anita, thank you...the two-legs and four-legs truly appreciate the prayers. They steady us.

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  7. Oh Andrew, thank you fo sharing what heaven was like. I loved your description...how it was as comfortable as a well worn shirt. I'm glad you're still here friend. But I know that eventually it will be your time to go. You are loved....don't ever forget that. I'm in the #12 spot this week.

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    1. I'm glad to still be here too, Tara. In spite of it all...I find more and more value in every moment of this life. As I write this...it isn't an easy evening...but I would not trade it away.

      I'll never forget the love, Tara, and, as Patrick Swayze said in "Ghost"...you take it with you.

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  8. Oh Andrew, wow. I'm glad you shared your experience. I never thought about what a smooth transition it would be to pass from here into eternity. I always pictured a gap in time, in space.

    You're so right: Our lives DO matter. God put each of us here with a purpose in mind. Thank you for being such an inspiration to live each day fully.

    I have been praying for you, and continue to pray for you, Barbara and the dogs.

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    1. jeanne, I think that the seamlessness of the transition is the hallmark of its reality...when you think of it, how could it be otherwise, when God catches you up in His arms, to be in His land forever?

      I had always wondered about themeaning of our lives when compared with Heaven, and the truth came as being blindingly simple. Our lives here are a pencil-sketch of the Grand Canyon, so to speak, and Heaven is its full-on reality.

      We so appreciate the prayers...and right now, I need them. Hard night ahead.

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  9. Beautiful, brother! And this: "Duty will call you back. Let it. It means you're not done." Amen! So glad you came back, Andrew!

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    1. I'm glad I came back too, Karrilee. So were the dogs, in that moment...and they have been especially sweet since.

      Though Ladron the Heeler will gently push me away from the computer when she thinks that writing is tiring me out!

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  10. I'm so glad you shared your experience and remember the Lord is not done with you yet!! You still have some work to do.

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    1. Miranda, yes...exactly. He does remind of the work remaining...sometimes impatiently! (As, in, GET UP, LAZYBONES! You can feel sick LATER!)

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  11. i'm glad you're still here. Still praying. Love you.

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    1. Love you too, Jordan, and so appreciate the prayers.

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  12. Oh Andrew, how powerful are these words you share here. Just LOVE what God gifted you in giving you a tiny glimpse into the hereafter. And oh how blessed we are that you have chosen to walk into the days God has prepared for you here on earth, as steeped as they are in suffering.

    This especially spoke to me: "It seems that we won't, and that we'll have fun facing the things that try our patience and test our skills now." Just a few days ago, God showed me while running that the exhilarating joy I now feel in anticipation of the hills before me (because I've faced their pain and fear so many times, encouraged forward by my husband) is exactly what He's leading me into in facing the hills of pain and suffering in my life, spurred on by His Love. Oh the wonders of this Glorious Love for us!!

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    1. Anna, I love the experience as well...and it grows sweeter in memory.

      The pain's going to end someday, but what I've been shown, in coming back, is that more clearly than ever, it has a purpose, to show that no night is ever truly black, that the light of the Divine will always filter in, and will one day banish the darkness.

      And His love does equip us to climb those hills. I love the way you put this.

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  13. Your last comment just cracked me up... "Oh, darn. Just learned it's FORGET. Well, it's an experience I'll never forget. OK?"

    And we will never forget you, Andrew, and the words you've sent our way. Thank you for sharing your journey with us! You are loved!

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    1. Rachel, you've just made me tear up, and there is nothing I can do but say, THANK YOU!

      I'll never forget you, either. Your wisdom has been a solid hook on which I have often hung a shaking faith. If that kind of mixed metaphor makes sense!

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  14. Thanks for sharing your experience- I love your description. And your attempts to fit in with the prompt words made me smile. Continuing to pray for you and Barbara.

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    1. Carly, thank you...I tried to tell it as plainly as possible, because 'plainly' was the reality...and that was such a joyous thing!

      We so appreciate the prayers. Thank you!

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  15. Ooph Andrew. You got me tearful today with this one. Heaven's glory seems so immediate through your description, and you share it with us with such love and generosity. Thank you. I'm now looking around carefully myself... with some of that sort of disorientation you describe: what's really real? Eternity of course, but here and now is still what we've got to work with til we cross over.

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    1. Ruth, when you see it, it's the immediacy that will hold you close...the immediacy of Love, and of the fact that Heaven is made for who we are, because who we are is God's choice...and ours, if we listen to Him...and He delights in the small things in our lives.

      The disorientation lingers. Skies are brighter, music more resonant, and love here, sweeter. Kind of overwhelming...Heaven in my pocket.

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  16. What an amazing adventure! I'm so glad you are still here. Thank you for sharing it.

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    1. Missy, thank you! When I came back, I was pretty weak, pretty shaky, very disoriented, but knew it had to be shared. I'm so glad to be here to do that!

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  17. What an amazing adventure! I'm so glad you are still here. Thank you for sharing it.

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  18. And here I'm captured by the texture of a long-leaf pine, almost silky, shimmering against a clear sky, and the angled shadows of an iron-railing cast onto a sidewalk, wind against my cheek, leaves blowing in a corner behind me. Thank you.

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    1. Stacy, you brought that to life for me. Thank you!

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  19. Regret...Forget...Near-Death Experience...whatever the word; whatever the experience, oh Andrew...what a place to be!! I am actually always glad to read the experiences you share. Such encouragement, such courage and perseverence...I am not ready to leave this world yet either; and believe it or not, really felt I was going to last night! But, here I am!! And, so glad that you are, too!

    Your work IS NOT done yet; Our God has much left for you to do!! So blessed that you share your experiences with us even though you must be feeling so drained after your experience. Thank you for sharing YOU!! Praying for/with you and Barb.

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    1. I'm really glad you're here, and DIDN'T leave, Barbara!

      It was draining, and the dogs are watchful to make sure I don't overdo things...I'm gently pushed away from the computer from time to time...but God's still got stuff to do, and I'm glad of that.

      We really appreciate the prayers!

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  20. Fantastic, and humbling. You've been given something special.

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    1. Very special, Norma...and it hasn't faded. On the contrary, the memory is filling my soul. Pain is worse, but this makes it so much easier to bear!

      Thank you so much for being here, my friend.

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  21. Andrew, you awe me every time I stop by and read your words. You demonstrate such faith rooted in reality, both earthly and heavenly. I so admire your perseverance in the face of death. To read your account of a glimpse into the afterlife made me smile. It's a huge privilege to have a peek into how you saw things. What a gift God has given you to not only experience what you did but to have the wherewithal as a writer to describe it so vividly and with humility.
    I ache for the pain you are in and am praying still that it may be relieved to some extent. Our earthly tents are not a pretty sight at the ragged end of their usefulness. But there is beauty in the breaking down. I see it in the sparseness of your prose and the courage of your convictions. Hang in there, friend. God's got work for you to do and we're all sighing with relief because the Grim Reaper passed on and looked the other way this week!

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    1. Joy, thank you...your words mean so much to me.

      I love how you put this..."our earthly tents are not a pretty sight at the ragged end of their usefulness". Sheer genius, and so true.

      I'm glad that the Grim Reaper got distracted, too. There has been beauty - and Joy! - in each day since, that I would not have missed for anything.

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  22. Oh Andrew, what a fantastic experience you had! I love how you get us all into the story and then make us giggle. Glad it was the doggies nervous and not you. I'm convinced that none of us will leave this world until the time He has designated. Your sweet experience was preparation dear friend. Golf in Heaven? Yes, I believe God is big enough to allow us the things we enjoyed in this life to be a part of Heaven too. And btw, you did a great job sneaking the prompt in, not once but twice, lol.

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    1. Christy, thank you! It was a wonderful experience, and it grows and becomes more vivid in memory. That's a hallmark of its reality, and the benchmark of confidence in God's love.

      Yes, golf in Heaven...and there's an old Irish blessing that now makes my heart leap with joy...

      "May you spend eternity with the Holy Family beside a lake of beer."

      Can't wait.

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  23. Dear Andrew, I forget, what number I am but I can assure you I am far down the list because I posted on Saturday.My brother has PTSD, he was in Vietnam. Blessings my friend. Diana Rockwell.

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    1. Diana, thank you for being here...and my prayers are with your brother.

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  24. Dear Andrew, I am so thankful that you are alright. When we walk with the Lord in the light of his word, our home coming will be nothing but splendor. Paul said he won either way. Selfishly I am glad we have you for as long as God has deemed for you to be here. Blessing Diana.

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    1. Diana, yes...Paul is right. We win either way, because the ultimate victory's been won for us, and we need never pay the struggle any more mind. We are here...and then, THERE, and unless we;re called back, we need never look back.

      Too much Love on the eternal horizon!

      But I am glad to still be here. The days since have brought love and beauty...and pain, yes, especially right now as I am writing...but I would not have missed it.

      Heaven will be there when I go home to stay. No rush.

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  25. As you can see by the number of comments here, Andrew, you've got a community of support built all around you. Whether you're dreaming or wide awake, I hope the reality of friendship is a great encouragement to you, friend ...

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    1. Linda, this community is vital, the biggest part of what keeps me going, and what drew me back.

      God's called me, I think, to be an encourager in His Love, if that makes sense (and isn't a presumption!), and I love this work...and you, my friend, and everyone out there.

      Until I go for good...this community is my home.

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  26. thanks for visiting again; your testimony is a credit to God and to yourself, too! peace, hope, and resurrection power!

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    1. Leah, thank you so much! Living the Resurrection tonight, and even though it hurts...loving it.

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  27. Andrew! I am so glad you came back to us. Thank you for sharing your heavenly encounter with us.

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    1. Barbie, thank you...I'm so glad to be here...and I think that a large part of why I was sent back was to share it.

      Hope, faith, and love seems to be a loaves and fishes kind of thing...the more you share them, the more there is. Maybe?

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  28. I'm so grateful this encounter did not end in death, Andrew. We all long for you to live another day and write more of your stories here and in your books, my friend. Praying you feel God strengthening and rallying you for many more days to come!

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    1. I'm pretty happy still to be here too, Beth...though I feel 'different'. I wish I could say 'more at peace', but that would be only partially true. The 'human stuff' still affects me, and the pain thereof is both blunted and sometimes sharpened by the immediacy of the experience (which has not faded). Does that make sense?

      Thank you so much for being here. I really appreciate your support. These are tough days.

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  29. Happy to see your writing here this weekend, Andrew. Continued prayers going up for you.

    Lynette
    ~#89 this wk

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    1. Thank you so much, Lynette...and thank you for the lovely card! We so appreciate the warm thoughts and prayers, and the Ps.106 notecard...and the wonderful dog! has the same expression as one of ours (a Daschund named Bray).

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  30. Andrew, Thank you for continuing to bless others with your words. And I am so inspired by the humor that is still intact! You are in my prayers!

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