"Benign" has got to be one of the sweetest words in the English language.
Let's say your wife suspects a problem and goes to see her doctor. Tests are run and you wait for what seems to be an eternity for the results. Finally, the two of you meet with the oncologist and she says, "There's nothing to worry about. The lump is benign." The sense of relief you experience is like no other. You begin to weep with joy, thanking God for his kindness and goodness to you.
Not infrequently, however, the test results reveal the presence of cancer in your wife's body. Doctors will "stage" the cancer, beginning with "Stage 1" and going up to "Stage 4." The doctors are gentle but honest. "The tumor is cancerous." There's no sugar-coating it. In our case, they told us, "It's a very rare form of endometrial cancer. We believe it's already at Stage 4." You thank the physicians, make plans for surgery, then get in the car to drive home. But not before you weep. It's not a hopeless cry. It's a brokenness cry. Just the thought of losing your spouse requires a radical and painful adjustment. Canadian evangelist Leighton Ford put it well when his eldest son Sandy died at the age of 21. "The struggle is to bring our faith and our emotions together," adding, "When you love deeply, you hurt deeply."
When Becky passed from earth to heaven 11 years ago this Saturday, she was surrounded by those who loved her. For the last time I held the hand of the one who'd been by my side for 37 wonderful years. One of the things I always say is that being brave doesn't mean that you're not scared. Sometimes it's too much, no matter how much you try to make it better. Don't get me wrong. What I've experienced is nothing like the hard that so many of my friends have experienced this year. Life's sweetness is always laced with the bitter. Every wonderful day I spend on the farm is a day I am achingly aware of her absence. Every moment I think my heart is going to burst watching one of my grandkids accomplish something amazing is another reminder that life is so tenuous and so breakable. Someday in their life they too will be asked to claim the promise that God is still God even when there are no miracles to be found, even when the doctors do not say "benign," even when they are forced to forget everything except his strength, knowing that he has not abandoned them to slip beneath the waves.
This weekend I'll be commemorating Becky's homegoing by attending a performance of the North Carolina Symphony in Raleigh. I won't be alone. My daughter who lives in Alabama will fly in to attend the concert with me. It will be a wonderful time filled with wonderful memories. Then, next month, I'll spend Thanksgiving with her and her husband and their 5 children in their beautiful home. As I look back now, I see that no matter how lonely I have felt since Becky died, I have never been alone. More than anything, I've had my family there to remind me that Jesus defeated sin and death through his crucifixion and resurrection. Then, once again, I find reason and courage to keep going and to continue believing.
I don't do this often, but as I close I'd like to pray for you if I may.
Dear Father, thank you for your very gracious willingness to listen to us when we call upon you in our times of need. Thank you that in your Son, our Lord Jesus Christ, we have a Savior who has come to our rescue. He's right here, right now with us. He wants to live his life inside us. He wants to become for us a source of encouragement, and strength, and companionship, and hope. Help us, our Father, to trust in Christ. Help us to turn our lives over to him again by faith. Lord, use today's blog post as a very special message to those who eat a meal at a table for one, who sleep alone, who live apart from the companionship they once knew and enjoyed, who may feel hopeless and friendless. Minister to them by bringing into their lives a friend to whom they can confide their deepest secrets and who rescues them from discouragement and hopelessness. Thank you, Father, in advance for how you will use these words in the lives of those who need to hear it. In the name of Jesus I pray.
Thank you for sharing these brief thoughts with me today. You are part of my journey, you who read and cheer and pray along with us, so it's only right that you celebrate with us too.