When Rigor Mortis Sets In
There’s always something to learn from life’s moments of shock and stiffness
It was the days before cell phones were the norm, I was 8, and my grandfather died. Summer was at its peak and school had just started back. My mom and I had just gotten to church and one of the church members ran out to the car to tell my mom that my aunt had called crying and upset, that something had happened to my grandfather. My mom called my aunt and was told that her father-in-law, my paternal grandfather had died.
When mom and I arrived at my grandfather’s house, he was on the floor by his bed in the fetal position. My dad and brother arrived and grief filled the air. Before the funeral home arrived, I was in my grandfather’s bedroom beside my dad, who had his hand on his father’s shoulder. I had always been afraid to touch cadavers but my father, who is a trained mortician, plus the deceased was his father, so he had no fear of touch. I reached down and touched my grandfather’s shoulder and his skin was hard as a rock. It startled me because I was expecting his skin to move as normal until my father explained to me that rigor mortis had set in.
Rigor mortis is the Latin term for “stiffness of death.” It is when the muscles stiffen after one has died. Taking anywhere from 20 minutes to hours after someone dies, it typically lasts 3-4 hours after death. For all, like me, who were forced to study biology in school (haha), it’s caused when there is a lack of adenosine triphosphate (ATP), leading to muscles contracting and fusing together.
Pardon the details of death, but this post is on when the shocks of life hit us and a sort of rigor mortis sets in. When I say “shocks of life,” I’m referring to a job loss, the spouse that asks for a divorce, that business partner that wants to part ways, that boss that without sign or warning demotes or pushes you out of your job. You see, when these kinds of losses come, a type of rigor mortis sets in when, where first there’s shock and perhaps a moment of trying to gather your thoughts takes place, and then there’s numbness or speechless-ness. I think before anger or other forms of emotion appears, there’s a quiet numbness like a death that happens.
I’ve had rigor mortis set in a few times in life and boy, they are no fun. And for those like me, I tend to retreat into myself, shutting out people, conversation, and any sort of kinesthetic energy until I can catch my breath. But, I try to weed through the deafening noise, muscle stiffness, and numbness and find my next breath in the words of Albert Camus: “In the midst of winter, I found there was, within me, an invincible summer.”
Jesus reminds us in John 16:33 “In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” I think in these moments of shocking loss, it’s actually an opportunity to sit with Jesus and press into alone time with God and ask: ‘God, what are you saying in this moment of loss?’ Perhaps God is allowing this loss because He’s ready to shift us in a new direction. That which we have been holding onto and gotten comfortable in, just means that it’s time to pick up our mats and walk into the new thing He is doing in our lives.
As Australian activist, evangelist, and author Christine Caine has said a time or two, “we have to learn to loosely hold onto things in life.” Nothing is certain in this life, not our jobs, our money, friendships, romantic relationships, health, and as the recent LA fires show it, not even our homes are certain. That’s why it’s key to set our feet into things that are eternal. In the midst of loss character is formed and shaped, humility sets in, trust in God (or something higher) grows, when we learn to adjust to loss and not hold on to things that don’t matter. We can also learn to forgive, we learn to love, and we learn to hope. I mean, we can become bitter and try to enact revenge but that doesn’t really work.
As actual rigor mortis only lasts about 3-4 hours, the muscles will become elastic again and the body will adjust. When we have moments of “rigor mortis” in our lives, after the shock and feeling the pain runs its course, let us resolve to become flexible and embrace the change that shook us up. The second part of Camus’ quote is: “And that makes me happy. For it says that no matter how hard the world pushes against me, within me, there’s something stronger – something better, pushing right back.” If we embrace the change, we will find new days, new visions, something stronger inside of us, and realize that the best days are yet to come.