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Karsten's Dancing
The world needs more people like Russell
Morton's friend, Karsten.
Karsten lived entirely in a wheelchair, two in fact, as
he had a spare. His body was frail, his limbs spindly
sticks. I guess he was in his thirties. He suffered from a
progressive, congenital, wasting disease. His brother
visited him from Holland, also confined to a wheelchair and
suffering the same disorder. They were quite a sight, out
and about in Chiang Mai.
I never quite worked out everything Karsten did. In part
he ran a guest house for young people from around the world
visiting Thailand. His living rooms sometimes were choked
with hand-woven goods from Lisu and Lahu villages, Karsten
organising shipment overseas to earn these poor folk much
needed baht.
How Karsten physically did any of this
was a mystery.
On occasions when we were at his home for a meal, we had
to arrange his food on a plate at the edge of the table; he
couldn't eat any other way but straight off the plate,
leaning over from the wheelchair. Karsten was a paradox of
extraordinary disability and extraordinarily unselfish
commitment to others.
He joined in our church services from time to time, and
some of us met in his home weekly for a wide-ranging
discussion group about the Christian faith - Americans,
Canadians, Australians, Dutch, British. It was quite a
group. Karsten had lots of questions, lots of doubts, but he
never talked about himself and the impossibly unfair state
of health he enjoyed.
I remember reading and arguing with him about Henri
Nouwen's The Return of the Prodigal Son. Karsten identified
successively with each character. I think he liked Nouwen,
proud of him as a fellow countryman. As I saw it, life for
Karsten was an unbelievably raw deal, but deep down he had
faith, a robust relationship with God and an enviable peace
about the future.
I don't actually recall our farewell. It would have been
no fuss, typical of Karsten. The email, some time after we
returned to Hobart, was as clear as it was brief. 'Karsten's
dancing', it said.
Karsten's frail body had deteriorated to the point that
he had a spell in hospital on a ventilator to assist his
breathing. This helped to the point that he was able to
return home briefly, but it was a short respite. The
breathing difficulties returned, he lost consciousness and
re-entered the hospital in Chiang Mai to have the tube put
back in.
A friend wrote later,
Thursday morning he told the doctor he had
had enough, and to take the tube out, saying he would not
ever want it back in. Karsten went to a regular floor on
oxygen. His own house had been flooded and had not been
cleaned enough for him to move back. He was enjoying
sushi and fresh lemonades, able to sit up and wear his
own clothes, but was getting more and more fatigued. This
morning (Sunday) he was having difficulty breathing
again. The nurse wanted to put the tube back in but when
I asked Karsten if he wanted that or not, knowing that if
he didn't have it, he would stop breathing - probably
today - he gave his cheeky smile and said, 'I guess today
is the day I see Jesus.'
He was able to talk enough to make a call to
Holland to say good-bye to both his mother and brother,
but by 8:30am was unresponsive. He died at 9:45am. There
was no fear. I feel like he died as he lived, with
courage and no complaints.
Stark contrast
I shed tears. Karsten would have dismissed that response.
But the tears were as much for our world, standing in stark
contrast to Karsten, a world of people lost in self-pity,
self-absorbed, worried to abstraction about terrorism,
pandemics, climate change, about their futures; seeking
solace in acquisitiveness, in frenetic activity, in
mild-altering chemicals.
Karsten just got on with what life he had, serving his
Lord by serving others, uncomplaining, a brief and
flickering light in the darkness.
When I think of Karsten, I am drawn to the Christian
hope. People in our world need so much to know what Karsten
knew, what Karsten knows. Karsten's dancing, folks;
Karsten's dancing.
Two verses of scripture immediately come to mind when I
think about Karsten. We should read them often.
Matt 11:4 'Go back to John and tell him about what you
have seen - the blind see, the lame walk…' Acts 3:8 'He
jumped up, stood on his feet and began to walk. Then
walking, leaping and praising God…'
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