I'm Dying

I was 14 years old when I realized I did not have a social security number. I was also 14 years old when I realized my family was not like other families.

We all come to this realization at some point in our lives. Perhaps we realize we’re richer or poorer or happier or sadder or darker or more religious or less, more conservative or more liberal. Whatever it is, around adolescence, we begin to realize the norms and mores we’ve adopted and adapted to are not like others. This is a good thing. This is part of growing up. Our brains are developing reasoning and logic and critical thinking skills at this point in life. All the givens we’d assumed in life now become cogs in our brains. Folks like to call this a rebellious stage, but really, this is just our brains working as God designed them to work. Why? and how? and what for? are all right and good things for adolescents to ask. It means they have normal functioning brains.

At 14, two years away from when I assumed I’d get my driver’s license, a job, begin preparing for college, earn a paycheck of my own, get a passport, I learned because I lacked a nine digit number, the government did not recognize my existence, and therefore there would be no driving, no insurance, no college, no job, no paycheck, no passport.

I began paying attention to the reasons I was given for not having a social security number. The reasons were plenty and rambling and pedantic and angry and fearful and no matter how my brain tried to process them, all I felt was cheated of my life. My whole life. My brain still wasn’t fully developed enough to realize that the end of life as I envisioned it in two years could be rectified by a decision I was legally free to make on my own in four years (and which I finally did make in six years, where the last words I heard as I left the house that day were, “Fine. Go sign your soul over to the devil.”). All I felt was death and fear.

I spent a few minutes on Facebook this morning. I try not to hang out there much because I like most of the people in my life, old friends and new, and when I see some of the things they say on Facebook, I think perhaps the person I know in person isn’t the person they truly are. Almost two months into varying levels of isolation has accomplished beauty in the lives of some and made the crazy come out in the lives of others. I lament the latter, we are only human after all.

Today the subject on the Facebooks is conspiracy theories, both the sharing of them and the warning against them. Some folks say the virus was manufactured, some say wear masks, some say don’t, some say even the experts are confused, some say in 26 minutes what can be debunked in less than two.

It took me less than a minute to close the browser and shut it down. I have no space in my heart for conspiracies of any kind. I grew up surrounded by them, can smell them ten miles away, know the havoc they can wreak on the hearts of parents and children alike, and won’t give a second of my time to legitimizing them. Sure, there are some people who swear by them (Using the hermeneutical approach of comparing certain conspiracies against other what other conspiracy theorists say and therefore, assumedly, proving their truth—as ludicrous as saying because Bobby says he’s blue and Billy says Bobby is blue, therefore Bobby is blue.), but the decision I’ve made for my life is to give no credence to them. The pathway they wired in my brain has taken decades to rewire and I cannot fall back into their allure.

Someday I will die. I will die by COVID19 or heart disease. I will die by stroke or a car accident. I will die from smoke inhalation or old age. I am going to die. You are going to die. 100% of us die. Even the ones that are raised to life again have died. Death is certain for all of us. It’s coming and most of us can’t predict how it will come. We can try, we can conspire, we can diet, we can take our supplements, we can lower stress. We can do ten thousand things to prevent the one certain thing: We are going to die.

When we come to peace with this reality (and the certain future of those who are in Christ Jesus), it can free us to lift our hands off the temptation of conspiracy theories. These are for those who do not have faith, but fear. They are for folks who believe themselves to be victims of vast threats against them. They are for folks who see other folks as suspect and who prepare for doom every day. They are not rooted in the hope for those who believe we live in a world that will be reconciled to Jesus in fullness, who will dwell with our Father forever, and who right now, today, are full of the Holy Spirit, who helps us discern truth and terror, righteousness from gossip on social media, who comforts us when we are afraid and grasping for anything that will confirm our fears instead of saying:

“God, I’m scared. I don’t know everything. I don’t even really know that much. But I know the answer isn’t to read and absorb and meditate on fear-mongering or suspicious content. I know the answer is to set my mind on you, ask you for help, thank you for my body and the bodies of my children today, and ask for help as I walk in faith. I am going to die someday and I don’t know how. But give me strength to not repeat, share, or believe the competing information I see on Facebook. Help me to spread good news faster than bad news, truth faster than lies, and faith faster than fear.”

I was 20 years old when I signed my name on a piece of paper and received my social security number. Every single time, without exception, when I need to type or write it out, I take a gulp of the fresh air of freedom and faith. I praise God. It’s a worshipful experience for me because I know what it’s like to live under a shroud of fear and I won’t do it again. I know how easy it is to get sucked into shams with the appearance of truth and I won’t do it again.

“It is for freedom that we’ve been set free, no longer a slave to any yoke.” I grew up hearing that as a defense for not partaking in the social security system, but now I know it’s about so much more. It’s about not living life afraid of death. It’s about living an abundant life because we no longer fear what the world can do to us. It’s about being so secure in Christ that we know any security the world offers pales in comparison. My name is on record somewhere in the government, yes, but my name is far surer on record with the God of the universe and I trust him.