Strangely Different - A Reader's Near-Death Story

Yesterday, I asked whether any of you had a near-death experience, a sort of resurrection story. It seemed like a stretch, but because I have the most interesting readers in the world, I thought I’d take a shot. The shot paid off.

Lisa responded. As a toddler, she had her own near-death experience while in the hospital. And though she doesn’t remember the details, she shared this: “Strangely my parents said I was different. Liked different foods, had a different personality, mannerisms. Like a different person.” The old had passed away and through a sort of resurrection, the new had come.

As I wrote yesterday, we need resurrection stories more than ever. We’re a people in need of belief, in need of hope. And yes, this is true for the people of faith, for the agnostics, and for the atheists. The world is begging for something new, something that rises “strangely… different,” to use Lisa’s words.

Look at the world around you, particularly the most broken places. Look at social media, government, the healthcare system, your own community, perhaps even your own health. What if all the brokenness is not beyond resurrection? What if we could work to revive it, to make it strangely different? How?

Examination: What’s one area of your life that’s broken or near death, one area you’d like to see a sort of resurrection? (Write it down.)

And if you’ve had a near-death experience (or know someone who has), please email me. I’d love to hear it.

Have you woken up? Grab a copy of The Book of Waking Up: Experiencing the Divine Love That Reorders a Life.

“The Book of Waking Up truly is for all of us. In these pages you will not find the dreaded alarm clock, no. This is a glorious song of joy, of honesty, and of wonder-working power. These lyrical, honest, humble words will open eyes, unclench fists, and cause souls to rise up in love.” ~ Sarah Bessey

A Near-Death Story, a Bright Light, and a Hope for the Resurrection of Democracy

Two weeks ago, I sent a newsletter about cultivating a “Resurrection Imagination.” There, I argued the world was in an unrelenting cycle, one that’s “all spinning negative.” This, of course, was before the Hindenburgian experience that was the Presidential debate and before President Trump was diagnosed with COVID-19. It was before whatever melodramatic event unfolds this week.

2020—It’s can’t catch a break, man.

While walking the dog, I found myself waxing melancholic about near-death experiences with a friend.* These experiences fascinated me, I said, and she responded, said her mother had experienced her own death’s-door moment. There was a bright light. A voice asked whether she was ready. She wasn’t, she said, because she needed to care for her husband. She’d made the right call. Months later, he was later diagnosed with a terminal disease. It was an experience that shaped her mother’s life, she said.

“What’s made you so interested in near-death experiences?” she asked.

I gathered my wits and put it straight. We’re on the edge of some kind of collective death, I think. Perhaps its the moment just before the bright light, just before we hear the voice asking whether we’re ready for another shot (maybe one that’s less consumptive and more fraternal?). Perhaps burned through all our shots. Whatever. Still, I said, I have to believe in a resurrection one way or the other. I have to believe that something like new life will rise from these chaotic death-throes.

I don’t know whether any of this is true, of course. We could simply be in the middle of an ugly cycle, one that ends come January 2021. Perhaps we’ll go back to some kind of status quo, some more unified, less pandemic reality. Somehow, I doubt it. And so, I’m praying for a sort of national resurrection. A resurrection into something more like hope and brotherhood.

*If you have a story of a near-death experience, I’d love to hear more. Would you consider sharing it by emailing me?

Have you woken up? Grab a copy of The Book of Waking Up: Experiencing the Divine Love That Reorders a Life.

“We live in a culture obsessed with both image management and pain management, and this book is a hundred elegant and honest invitations to stop managing and start living.” ~ Shauna Niequist, NYT bestselling author.