For those who are according to the flesh set their minds on the things of the flesh, but those who are according to the Spirit, the things of the Spirit.  For the mind set on the flesh is death, but the mind set on the Spirit is life and peace, because the mind set on the flesh is hostile toward God; for it does not subject itself to the law of God, for it is not even able to do so, and those who are in the flesh cannot please God.  However, you are not in the flesh but in the Spirit, if indeed the Spirit of God dwells in you.   Romans 8:5-9

When I was in college, I took a chapel class that discussed controversial social issues.  Two of those were suicide and euthanasia.   Since my time in college and in the context of chronic illness, both of these choices have been gaining acceptance in our culture.  The basic premise in their justification is that the person dying is ending their life with greater dignity and grace.   To be sure, the aging process and health concerns such as dementia, ALS, Parkinson’s disease, strokes, cancer, etc. often bring on many indignities before finally ending life.  However, to take matters into our own hands rather than relying on God’s timing is willful and contrary to God’s precepts.  Rather than providing dignified death, it is either giving up or a defiant act in that it denies God’s goodness, wisdom, love and purposes.  A death that is truly dignified is much more graceful and determined than suicide or euthanasia.  I am truly thankful for the saints that I have known who have taught me what a dignified death really looks like.

One who truly dies with dignity looks to their Lord for direction.  They recognize that God is both sovereign and loving.  I remember sitting with Dick and Helen shortly before Dick stepped into eternity.  They knew that their bodies were failing and that neither of them would live much longer, yet neither railed against God for indignities of aging and disease.  Rather, they chose to live with grace one day at a time knowing that God in His perfect timing would take them home and that their decline was the pathway to God’s presence for eternity.  Just before Helen’s death as she headed into surgery, the doctor was explaining the procedure and the risks in light of her overall health.  When he finished, she testified to the fact that ultimate control of the situation was in God’s hands, not the surgeons.  She did not survive the surgery but her testimony and its impact survives in the lives of those of us who knew her.

A dignified death exhibits grace and joy in spite of infirmity.  Uncle Wilbur and Aunt Margaret certainly did that.  As my uncle declined due to heart disease I could tell that he was struggling, but he was always kind, joyful and kept the devious twinkle in his eye that was a trademark of sorts.  He did not allow his infirmity take away his generous spirit.  Similarly, my aunt remained joyful to the end.  The last time I saw her was at her sister-in-law’s funeral.  As my wife approached her to say hello, Aunt Margaret said something to the effect she had no idea who my wife was but was glad to see her.  She knew that the problem was her mind, but she remained joyful and welcoming.  The grace with which they accepted their condition and the joy that had always been there remained to the end.

Dignity requires that the concerns of others are still important and relationships are maintained.   Ronnie learned in the summer that he had a condition that left him little time on earth.  He stepped into eternity that fall.  While looking expectantly to heaven, he also cared deeply about leaving Rosemary behind.  For at least the last decade, we sat behind or at least near Rosemary and her family.  Every Sunday she required a hug and kiss from me as only she could do.  Aware of my struggles, she always sized up my condition and would often comment…especially when she was concerned.  More importantly, she minded me that she loved me and often added “I mean that” to make sure that I got the message.  That remained true through her final decline and to the last time I visited her at the hospice facility.  I cannot adequately describe what that kindness has done for my soul and how much I miss that.  She loved well, took nothing for granted and did not allow her failing body to deter her.

Dignity maintains hope.  Aunt Helen lived her last days with the hope of eternity and God’s promises.  She viewed her “light and monetary trials” as the path to eternity.  She trusted her Savior and knew that He is faithful and would deliver what He had promised.  She did not live in fear of her ailments but in the hope of what was to come.

One who dies with dignity does not reject God’s authority and plan, but perseveres by maintaining the relationship with their Lord.  As my father awaited his end on earth, his daily request was that I read scripture to him and pray with him.  Even though he could no longer focus well enough visually or mentally to read the words himself, it was important to him to hear God’s word and to pray daily.  Even though his mind was failing, by grace he was able to pray appropriately.  It was a sweet time for us.  It is also what he had done for me years earlier when my own future was uncertain.  In order to have the strength of character to die with dignity, it is imperative that we maintain our relationship with God as we are able.

As I’ve mentioned before, in the early days of my own trials, there was a daily temptation to take my own life.  The extreme pain, the fear it caused my wife and daughters and the damage the side effects of drugs were causing in my body and relationships shifted my focus from God to my condition.  I assumed that my end was near and when I wasn’t thinking about taking my life I was begging God to do it.  Thankfully He did not and the reality of facing Him immediately after suicide to explain my lack of faith in Him kept me from action.  Since that time, He has taught me that I can live this life in His grace.  He has used it to draw me into a better relationship with Him.  He still patiently works to perfect me.  Had I taken my life not only would I have missed the blessing of God’s work on my soul and the opportunity to help others as the result of my own trials, but I would have also missed:  our daughters’ high school, college and law school graduations, our daughter’s wedding, our son-in-law, our grandsons, vacations with my Aunt Bonnie and Uncle Jim, learning to water ski and dance, the relationships mentioned above as well as many others, our 25^th wedding anniversary celebration, the ups and downs of the last 26 years of marriage and so much more.  Slowly I have learned to trust God and His promises, understand the vastness of His love even in the midst of hardship, and to see firsthand that He is “able to do far more abundantly beyond all that we ask or think, according to the power that works within us”.

Those who die with dignity do not focus on the concerns of the flesh, its comfort, the indignities of age and illness or take matters into their own hands.  Rather, they live in the Spirit acknowledging the realities and the struggles but rise to trust God, draw on His strength, persevere, hope, and love well knowing that by dying with dignity and grace they testify to God’s goodness and encourage those around them in their own faith.

Living with chronic illness and pain has many variables that can shift our focus away from God to our flesh…literally as well as figuratively.  It may incite fear of the future or the craving our death.  However, when we live well, we live in the Spirit drawing on God’s strength to persevere and continue to hope in Him and His promises.  Barring the Lord’s return beforehand, we will all face our end on this earth.  May we all live well to the very end so that we may die with dignity and grace despite the challenges our illnesses may bring.  We do this not only to the glory of our God and for our own good, but we do it to testify and to encourage the men and women of faith who observe the events of our life and as a witness to those who do not yet know God.

God is our God forever and ever; He will guide us until death.

Will