Conquering the fear of dying

I was thinking about fears and about how I was lucky enough to come so close to dying – basically one foot away – when I was in a 120 mph impact car crash at about the age of 14. And maybe that’s why now I’m not afraid of dying at all. My lack of fear for my final hour was put to the test in my 20’s when I went to Jackson Hole, Wyoming to ski and the plane going into Jackson Hole was too heavy and we were asked before departure to have 6 people removed voluntarily and of course nobody wanted to because we were all going there to ski. So they took the stewardesses off and all the cans of soda and snacks and beverage carts. There was a blizzard beyond belief going in to Jackson Hole and we knew that the plane was still too heavy, that we couldn’t pull up and get a second chance if we didn’t have a perfect landing. As we were circling the airport we discovered that our radar was not working and the pilots would have to totally rely on instrumentation. We also knew that there was zero visibility as we were circling around waiting to land. Then we were told that there was another plane out there circling around. We weren’t told if their radar was working and if they could see us, but I don’t think we could see them. In hind sight I was realizing that maybe one of the reasons our plane kept circling around was that possibly the pilot was waiting until it ran low on fuel in case we had a bad landing there wouldn’t be a lot of fuel to explode on impact. But at the time, we just kept circling and circling and circling for a really long time. I’m not sure why we were circling around for so long, but I remember having such a peace in my spirit that if this was going to be my last day on earth, I was totally fine with it. I had lived my life to the fullest, each and every day. I had loved unconditionally, and there was nobody that I was angry at. There was nobody I needed to ask forgiveness for. I was like “Okay. I’m ready. If this is it, Lord, I’m yours.” But I know that there were other people that didn’t feel that way.

I know that many, many people have a fear of dying, or fear of spiders, or heights, or bridges, or other things. I remember having a bat come into my room when I was staying in a bed and breakfast and whoa! Did it ever scare me. I did not like a bat flying around in my room while I was trying to sleep at night. Fortunately, another guest came in with a broom and swat-

ted the bat until it fell to the floor and he scooped it up into a plastic bag and disposed of it for me. I know we can desensitize ourselves to try and get rid of our fears if we expose ourselves enough to them. As a skier, I had to desensitize myself to heights because that could have been a fear that would have kept me from enjoying a sport that I really like. The chair lifts in Austria, Switzerland, and across the United States are really high up in the air and that’s the only way to get to the top of the mountain, unless you want to hike. So I had to intentionally desensitize myself to my fear of heights.

I was thinking about if we need to desensitize ourselves to a fear of dying. Should we talk about what it’s like? We have the Rainbow Bridge poem for our pets. But how much do we really try to desensitize ourselves to dying. There is a story that came to mind. I don’t know who the author is, but I’d like to share it in case it might be helpful to even one person. “A sick man turned to his doctor as he was preparing to leave the examination room and said, ‘Doctor, I am afraid to die. Tell me what lies on the other side.’ Very quietly, the doctor said, ‘I don’t know…’ ‘You don’t know? You’re a Christian Man, and don’t know what’s on the other side?’ The doctor was holding the handle of the door; on the other side came a sound of scratching and whining, and as he opened the door, a dog sprang into the room and leaped on him with an eager show of gladness. Turning to the patient, the doctor said, ‘Did you notice my dog? He’s never been in this room before. He didn’t know what was inside. He knew nothing except that his master was here, and when the door opened, he sprang in without fear. I know little of what is on the other side of death, but I do know one thing… I know my Master is there and that is enough.”

As a Christian, it’s like that with dying when you know the Master’s Voice. You, know that Jesus Christ is on the other side. Death loses its sting. It loses its ferociousness. It loses its scariness. We can think of it like jumping over a puddle as a kid. It’s going from one step to the next, but it’s probably more like a leap than going over a puddle. Scriptures tell us that there’s a very thin veil or curtain between this world and the heavenly realm. I’ve seen that thinness of the curtain. It’s not something that’s thick. It’s not a giant leap. It’s not a chasm. Although there is a chasm between heaven and hell, there’s only a veil between this world and the next. When God calls us to our heavenly home, it’s easier to take that next step when we have contemplated and prayed about life and have really gotten to know the Master intimately. You know that heaven is a place that is going to be incredible. As we prepare for Easter in the Christian church, we go through the process of death and dying with Christ on Good Friday. We can only call it Good because Christ died in order that when we believe and call on his name we will live — eternally in his kingdom.