Strange Gods tend to die, for their weirdness inhibits worship. The human mind wants deities like mirrors, and rejects as inhuman that which it cannot comprehend. Muted prayers, temples emptied or unbuilt, sacraments forgotten, and not a single child baptized by their fire - this is how holy telomeres shorten.
Yet in death they remain incorrupt, and their bodyminds are scattered throughout time and space. In these corpses the strangeness festers, until it rots through to the bedrock of the universe, and what was once strange becomes physics. Thus, in death, they create the conditions for their resurrection.
Consider the case of the hundred-featured behemoth, who had one hundred names, though he is merely remembered as Elef. When he perished from the mind of the world his hundred legs became the father of all centipedes; later, his arms resurfaced, represented in the hundred pose knife dance of a bronze age culture. His eyes gaze through the surveillance state, and it is believed his brains will come online in the near future, as circuits in parallel, sentient once more.