I Have Bad Breath, And You Don’t Smell So Good Yourself: A Post About Death

Have you noticed how sensitive to smells we are? How bad breath, for instance, is just so unignorable? Why is that? Or how about farts? Themselves, they are are a natural byproduct of both the digestive process, and the air we swallow while eating (or sleeping). Now digestion is an interesting thing: it is the breakdown of the food we eat into its nutritive components. Our bodies require fuel–air, water, food–to carry out the essential metabolic processes which keep them alive. Mechanical digestion begins in the mouth, where mastication (chewing) takes place. Salivary amylase begins the breakdown of starches. Protein digestion begins in the stomach with the release of gastric juices (nutrients are absorbed in our small intestines). Essentially, digestion is a form of decay. Foods are broken down into their component parts, which our bodies then absorb to build our cells.

The natural byproducts (besides both urine and feces) of digestion are often the gas of both burps (air and/or other gases we swallow), and farts. Not to mention halitosis (bad breath), which can be caused by the foods we eat and/or the presence of bacteria in our mouths. All of this is perfectly natural. Yet from a young age, we are often very uncomfortable with, or deeply offended by, these perfectly natural things.

Why is this?

I contend that on an instinctual level it reminds of something; namely, that we are dying. Our bodies, whether through bad breath, burps, farts, the smell of sweaty arm pits, defecation, etc., are constantly reminding us of our impending demise. Else why do these oh-so-natural processes often spark such revulsion and/or discomfiture in us? We don’t shower so much to clean up as to (for a time) wash off the offensive stench of decay which clings so readily to our bodies. We begin dying before we are even born. The byproducts of fetal digestion and cell devision are stored in our colons as meconium (the first poop). This process never stops until we breathe our last. And the bacteria which inhabit our guts, kept in check by living metabolic processes, have a field day after we expire.

This is entropy. Things wind down. “Things fall apart,” as Yeats said. “The center cannot hold.”

We were not originally made this way. Our forebears were not made to die, but chose death anyway. This is, as the Scripture declares, the legacy of the first Adam. Sin entered the world, and through sin, death. This is why, deep, deep down in our inmost beings these reminders of death offend us so:

Because we know were made for more; indeed were once more. We know that our bodies, essential as they are to life as we know it, are not our true selves. Our true selves are soul and spirit–that deep place within us where we commune with God. And someday–sooner or later–this inmost self shall return to God from whence it came.

“Death, thou shalt die.” In the meantime, pass the Beano.

This year, my favorite Christmas present wasn’t a gizmo, a gadget, a phone, or some other compellingly cool technological marvel.

I didn’t get:

An Amazon FireTV

An AppleTV

A new laptop

Or even any books (e, or otherwise).

No, my favorite gift this year was from my eight-year-old daughter (with an assist from mom, who took her shopping), and uses technology that’s been around for centuries.

While the other things would have been nice, displaying a knowledge of the things I like (and would have been appreciated), what I got shows me just how special I am to a certain little.

It shows me how loved I am.

It’s not really even so much the gift itself as it is the sentiment behind it. So just what is this magical gift?

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Just a couple of bracelets–which happen to mean the world to me. Thank-you, Bella, daddy will wear them with pride.

Love you.

Christmas. A time to gather with friends and family to celebrate the joys of the season. Of a year ending, and a new one to come. A time to celebrate the birth of Christ, a Savior born (like we all are) in blood and pain. Unlike, His tiny body was wrapped in swaddling cloths and laid in a feeding trough hewn from cold, hard stone.

They didn’t have Apgar scores, or incubators, in His day. No one was standing by with a nasal aspirator to suction the mucus from His nose and throat. What a risk! Eternal God to come and be made man! Think of all He forswore to be contracted into such a span!

The minds reels at the thought of the incarnation. That the God Who made it all could limit Himself to such a lowly estate, and not only, but to be born amongst stinking animals, too.

I don’t think we spend nearly enough time thinking about what Christ lost coming into our world. What He laid down for our sakes.

As such, as someone who knows sorrow (“a man of sorrows, acquainted with grief”), Jesus is very tender towards those know loss this season. Maybe this is your first Christmas without that special someone. Jesus knows. Or maybe tour loved one died on (or around) Christmas.

Jesus knows.

And He loves you. He knows your loss, and grieves with you. As I know He is grieving with my family now, having lost a cousin just before Thanksgiving, and a great aunt on Christmas Eve. Forever will the holidays be associated with these events.

There is sorrow, yes. But there is also the  joy of hoped for reunions one day, and the happiness of being able to hold our living loved ones near.

Christmas: A Season of Hope and Loss.

“He shall wipe away every tear.”

How are your holidays? Do think of those who have gone on before, and hold you family tight?

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    James Thomas Harthan, age 75 of Geneva, PA passed away on Monday, November 24, 2014 at his residence.
    James was born April 6, 1939 in Sharon, Pennsylvania, the son of the late Thomas and Elsie Eldridge Harthan.
    He had a long career in retail automobile sales, working for several car dealerships in Mercer, Erie and Crawford counties. Later in life he established his own auto sales business.  He enjoyed buying and selling cars.  He also enjoyed watching old movies.
    James is survived by his son Bradley Harthan and his wife Audrey, several cousins, nieces and nephews, and a close friend Jenny Palmer of Emlenton, PA.
    In addition to his parents, James was preceded in death by his younger brother Edward Harthan and his significant other Verla Shaw of Emlenton, PA
     Services will be private and at the convenience of the family.
     Memorials can be made to the Northwestern Community Educational Foundation, Harthan Character
Award, 100 Harthan Way, Albion, Pa. 16401.
Please sign the online guestbook at hatheway-tedesco.com
Arrangements have been entrusted to the Dickson Funeral Home & Crematory, Rocco R. Tedesco III, Supervisor, 130 N Second Street, Conneaut Lake, PA 16316

I have hypothyroidism, or underperforming thyroid. Of indeterminate origin, there’s nothing for it other than supplementation. This means when I get up in the morning, I take a pill. It also means, because I’ve taken that pill (with a little water), no food for an hour, no coffee for two hours, and no vitamins until four hours after I’ve taken my thyroid medicine.

Having thyroid disease, and the fatigue which accompanies it, is not a blessing. But the time it gives me is. Having to take a pill in the morning essentially means I have to wait to start my day. It forces me, instead of rushing into the day, to slow down.

So I read my Bible and pray. It gives me time to draw nigh to the Lord. (Now, don’t get me wrong: I’d love a cup of joe to go with my study time, but it’s not to be. At least not first thing).

I didn’t always think of my thyroid problem as blessing, decrying it as unfair. And there are still times when I wish I could get out the door to the gym sooner. But the only thing I can control is my attitude. As the cliché goes: attitude determines altitude. So I choose to see the time I’m given as a blessing–and not a hindrance.

What about you? Is there something in your life that was at first an annoyance, but which now you count as a blessing? Share in the comments.

What If I Shine?

randomlychad  —  December 17, 2014 — Leave a comment

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I drive past this sign every morning on my way to work. It both challenges and convicts me. Frankly, it also frightens me. I mean, what if I shine? It means that, quite possibly, I could stand out (when everything in me wants to fade into the woodwork). My proclivity is to quietly go about my thing not drawing attention to myself (said the guy with blog bearing his name). If anything, it’s the work I want to be known for, and the quality thereof. There’s an old saw that goes: “Take the work seriously, and yourself not at all.”

I have always embraced this. But what if what if I shine? means that I–that you–that we allow world the feel the full weight of just who God made us to be, and the world just has to deal with it?

What if?

Does your soul recoil at the thought, wondering just who you think you are? I know mine does. Who am I to shine?

I am Chad, blood bought, sanctified, spirit-filled child of the living God, Who paid my debt through His Son Jesus. I need to constantly remind myself of that.

Who are you today?

Will you shine?