Remember the teaser from the last Inside Out, the “That was Weird” comment? Well my friends, follow me down another of those famous rabbit trails of yesteryear and “Boldly go where no rabbit has ever gone before!” Along this trail we will be trying to do what is said to be the hardest thing anyone can do, to picture themselves in a casket.

When studying history, context is very helpful. It was in October of 1984 that a close friend, I believe he was only 19, died in an awful motorcycle accident. I was one of the pallbearers and I did go to the viewing and saw him in his casket. That was an odd time but I did not think much about how that could just as easily have been me. You see, I was an unusual kind of kid. At one point in high school, I thought seriously about taking out a term life insurance policy on myself. I knew that the way I rode my motorcycle, it was not a question if, but when I would be involved in a wreck. I was sure that I wouldn’t have a chance of surviving the upcoming disaster.

Fast forward just 3 weeks or so. I am married with an eighteen month old son and my wife was expecting our second child. I just buried my friend in October and I was still riding a motorcycle. I had a couple bikes at the time that were big cruisers. At the time I was riding my sister’s little 400cc Kawasaki to work, trying to help her sell it since she was off at college.

To borrow from the beginning from many a novel, “It was a dark and slightly foggy morning,” can’t you just feel the building tension? Well so much for the dramatics, back to the story. I was managing a fast food restaurant a couple miles from our little duplex and I was just starting another day, on my way to work. It is interesting how colossal, life-changing things happen without any warning. I was approaching this intersection at about 40-45 miles per hour. I looked up at the signal and saw a green light but when I looked back to the roadway I found a car directly in front of me. Any car would be trouble enough but this one was a “sled,” a 1972 Grand Torino station wagon.

As I shared in a previous Inside Out, I had grown up riding motorcycles and Debbie and I even took our honeymoon on a Gold Wing I had. I can only guess that instinctively I stood up on the foot pegs and as I hit the brakes and I slid into the car hitting it with the left side of my body. I always wore a full coverage helmut and this particular morning I had my prized Harley Davidson riding jacket on.

It is rather hard to describe what happened next. I did not see some light at the end of a long tunnel. I did not see the entire accident scene from some vantage point above myself. I don’t recall anything until I heard the paramedics talking. It was a very interesting way to eavesdrop on a conversation. I heard them asking if there were any witnesses, if anyone knew how long I had been laying there and then one of them asked the other this question, “So, when do we set the time of death?” I don’t mind saying, THAT WAS WEIRD!

Let me just back up a little and delicately give you the dynamics of the wreck. Subject A (Tim) is traveling along at 40 mph and came to a complete stop in just a few feet. While my body was coming to this quick stop, it transferred that energy of momentum into the car and thus I “BROKE” a station wagon with my body. Let’s see some kung-foo guy do that! My sister’s motorcycle was “broken” also. It was sheared in two at the steering column. If I had died then, the cause of death could easily have been listed as “extreme blunt trauma.” The motorcycle bent the frame of the car and between it and my body, we blew out all the windows. I ended up flying over the car and landing some distance away.

What happened next was rather odd. I was taken to the closest hospital and while I was in the hallway at the E.R. I was attended to by a Florida State Trooper writing me a ticket for not having my license on me. After the doctor rescued me from that, I remember clearly how they marveled at what little damage I suffered. My nose was broken from the impact, which literally ripped my helmut off my head. After they put a pin through my shin for traction later, they shipped me off to the x-ray room. I am sure that they expected to find an organ or two in the wrong place or maybe major problems with the skeleton. After over 100 x-rays all they saw was a hairline fracture in my left elbow and a clean break in my left femur. Not bad at all. OK, cool story but what is the point?

It is one thing to see how “miraculously” I was spared by God’s Grace in this case. Do you ever think how many times you are spared similar tragedies and never know it? I know I have mentioned this thought recently but think with me again about it. I have often used the phrase, “Life, it happens in 3-D and living color.” It would be nice, maybe, if life had a TEVO feature. We could then pause live action life, consider other options and see how it plays out. If that did not work then just rewind and try again. I was treated to a bit of humor the other day from Steven Wright. He says that “Life travels at the speed of life, one second at a time.”

Last June I had an opportunity to think about the casket question up close and personal. My father, Jerry “Papa J. Ray” Meyer left this earth and went home. I was honored to be one his pallbearers and carry his shell to the grave. I cannot express how much comfort I receive from 1 Corinthians 15:54-57. But verse 58 is full of challenge, “Therefore, my beloved brethren, be steadfast, unmovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, forasmuch as ye know that your labor is not in vain in the Lord.”

I will leave you with this thought I saw the other day on a T-shirt. “Live your life in such a way so as not to make the guy preaching your funeral a LIAR!” Hope to hear from any who might want to respond. If you would like to e-mail me, just click on the “Contact Us” tab at the top of the page or use the “Leave a Reply” box below!

Your fellow servant in HIS service, Tim Meyer