I started this post long before COVID-19 became an issue. I don’t worry about things I can’t control, including my death. I do follow commonsense things, and more importantly, I pray and listen to the Lord for guidance.
If you read my last two years’ posts for the events surrounding January 14, 1986 – January 14, 1986 – A Day That Changed My Life (2019) and January 14, 1986 – A Day That Changed My Life (2018), this is the closest I have knowingly come to death.
I went with the post title for a reason. While this is one of the closest times I have knowingly come close to death, there were a couple of other times that come to mind that may have been potential closer brushes with death.
What I don’t know is how many times I came close to death without knowing it. There are times when I planned on going one way, but as I went, I felt I should go a different way. The handful of times I ignored the feeling, I was delayed for a while. In one case, I had a minor wreck.
There was a serial killer in Wichita who followed people home, only to kill them. In several cases, he followed a few people home who he didn’t kill.
Sometimes our decisions or other people’s decisions lead to either a close brush with death, knowingly or unknowingly, or death. In other cases, it has nothing to do with decisions we or other people made. In my brother-in-law’s case, he went to bed thinking he would wake up in the morning. He died in his sleep.
When we are conceived, we have an expiration date. There are very few things you can do to extend that date.
There are very few things you can do to shorten it. I worked and volunteered at a few mental health agencies. I met a fair number of people who tried to kill themselves multiple times in ways that succeed most of the time. Yet, they lived.
I read a story about a flight attendant who fell 30,000+ feet after her plane broke up – Vesna V. Generally speaking, falling that far is fatal, but she lived.