Truth Magazine

By O.C. Birdwell, Jr.

“If we had only hoped in Christ in this life, we are of all men most pitiable” (1 Cor. 15:19).

When one stands beside the open grave of a son who is near his twentieth year of age these words have a deeper and more profound meaning they have ever had before. In 1 Corinthians 15, where the above passage is found, the apostle Paul presents the gospel of Jesus Christ and proclaims the resurrection of Christ as a vital part of that gospel. His resurrection is the basis for the abiding hope of men and women of faith that they and their sons and daughters will be raised. The apostles “witnessed of God that he raised up Christ.” Paul affirms that God also, by Christ, will raise us up. This is what faith in Christ is all about. This faith and hope becomes a sustaining force when one looks into the face of a cold and lifeless body and contemplates the finality of death, knowing that there will never be from him another smile, or touch, or embrace, and there will never be another “I will see you later” from his lips. It takes some time for one to set over expecting to hear his voice, see him come into the house, or find him in his bedroom or in his regular places. indeed, our hope in Christ must reach beyond this life.

On June 1, 1972, our son Gary died as a result of a commercial accident at his place of summer employment. It was almost exactly sixteen years before the time I began this article. Many have had a similar loss, and if time continues many others will have like losses. It may be that some of the things I have learned and some of the emotions I have experienced will help another under similar circumstances. Consequently, I would like to share with the readers of this journal some of the things I have learned.

I have learned that death comes at all ages. Yes, I knew this before, but it was not impressed on my mind with the same meaning. At Gary’s death I continued to ask, “What difference does a few years make?” In my immediate family there had been death all the way from a tiny infant to a grandfather near ninety-five years of age. Now my son was dead at age twenty. I learned that emphasis should not be put on mere length of life, but on the quality of life. It seems that some live, but only to mark time. They do not glorify God, serve Christ, or help others, and often they do not even please themselves. Without repentance, a long life for such a person is of no value to anyone. Let us learn to use every day we have as if it were our last. It may be our last.

I learned the concern of some and the carelessness of others. At his summer job, Gary cleaned railroad cars and dosed the bottom doors. This required his working under the car. Three loaded cars that were up the track were accidently released. They rammed the one under which he worked, pinning him underneath the car. The call came from Maury County Hospital, “Your son is seriously injured.” We rushed over to find that a local surgeon had provided some relief from pain and applied bandages. He told us that Gary had internal injuries, and that if he had a chance it would be at Vanderbilt University Hospital which was forty miles away. He was placed in an emergency ambulance. I sat by the driver. Just beyond my arm’s reach at Gary’s head was a young man holding an oxygen mask, and at Gary’s side was a young woman constantly checking his vital signs. They were both near Gary’s age. I never see an emergency ambulance with lights flashing that I am not reminded of the question I asked over and over as we were speeding toward Nashville. “Why will the drivers in these cars not get out of the way?” Many would not pull their cars over, although our lights were blinding and sirens deafening. I learned that I ought to get out of the way of emergency ambulances.

I also learned that professional people are often emotionally involved in their work. We were about rive minutes from the hospital. There was a little flurry of activity by both attendants. Suddenly they became still. There was ample light so I could see into the face of the young woman. She looked at me and did not say a word. She did not need to say a word. Her face was white as if every drop of blood had drained away. Her expression told me the complete story. Our son was no longer among the living. At the emergency room he was removed from the ambulance with my assistance, and rushed into an adjoining room. I gave information to the hospital attendant and was joined in the waiting room by a young man whom I thought was a hospital employee. The doctor returned to tell me what I already knew; our son was dead. As I waited I told the young man that on many similar occasions I had been with others and had offered advice and tried to comfort. Now I must apply to myself the advice I gave and counsel I offered to others. As I left I learned that the young man who was helping me by listening was a hospital chaplain.

I learned to accept comfort and help from friends and relatives. Jesus came to a city called Nain. Luke says, “Now when he drew near to the gate of the city, behold, there was carried out one that was dead, the only son of his mother, and she was a widow: and much people of the city was with her” (Lk. 7:12). The Lord saw the widow and had compassion. It is notable in this account that “much people of the city was with her. ” This, no doubt, was a help and comfort to her in her time of sorrow. Loved ones, if possible, be there to give comfort in time of such need. Also, those who sorrow should accept the comfort of friends and relatives. Do not draw into a shell, isolate yourselves, and close others out. A great friend and brother in Christ came to our house and sat for a long period of time. He, by nature, is a quiet man and little was said. He confessed, “I don’t know what to say.” I responded, “You do not need to say anything. Your being here says it all.”

In 1957, my youngest brother, at twenty-one, died in an automobile accident. My mother was forty-four when he was born and at his death was sixty-five. I was preaching in Arkansas and left immediately when news came of his death. On the way I stopped and tarried for several hours with two other brothers. When I arrived at my parents’ home my mother was in bed and extremely distraught. I lay down beside her and began to talk to her. She became responsive and with my help and the comfort from other sons, she soon got up and began to greet people. I have so often regretted my delay. I should have gone immediately to her side and have done what I could to comfort. I now understand more fully her despair and deep sorrow.

I learned that during times of such sorrow one could be influenced to interpret Scripture in keeping with his situation. I mean by this that one might, under emotional stress, interpret passages in keeping with the supposed spiritual condition of the deceased loved one. I was not tempted to do this, but I have talked to others who were. I have been blessed with the knowledge that, while our son had made grievous mistakes, he had repented of them and worked diligently to make corrections. He was active in worship and spiritual work. Some time before his death, and while I was away in a gospel meeting, he spoke one Sunday evening where I regularly preached. We have what he said on tape, but since his death I have not had the courage to play the tape. We could not know, however, his spirit, and therefore we could not know without any possibility of mistake his true relationship with God. Many have not been blessed with confidence and hope as have we. Some are extremely distressed, and feel that their sons died outside of Christ or unfaithful to Christ, and are, therefore, eternally lost. Indeed, this is a possibility in every case.

I have learned that following death one should not be anxious about the spiritual condition and state of the deceased, and definitely should not judge the deceased. This is not our prerogative. God alone shall judge by Jesus Christ. Let us teach, admonish, and warn while there is life. When death comes let us be content knowing that all opportunities have passed and are out of our hands. His spirit is now in the hands of the all-knowing, everlasting God, who does all things well. Remember too, that in the eternal scheme of things one soul is as important to God as another. May God forbid, but if my son or your son should be lost, maybe we can live and work to have influence to the saving of another soul that is just as valuable in the sight of God.

Dear friend, what I am saying is that we should not accept Calvinistic doctrines such as the imputed righteousness of Christ, continuous cleansing apart from repentance and prayer, and salvation for those who do the best they know, in order for us to feel good about the eternal state of our loved ones who have died. One cannot successfully change the doctrine of Christ to fit his own situation. This practice might be called “situation doctrine,” but like “situation ethics,” is not Bible doctrine and is just as unacceptable.

I learned that sincere, well-meaning, loving people will try to comfort by making uninformed and unscriptural statements. Some will say, “The Lord saw fit to take him.” My answer is, this is true only in the sense that he allowed it to be done. God did not decide to take the life of our son with a railroad boxcar. Let us not blame God for something he did not do. We live in the flesh. We suffer the maladies of the flesh. We work in dangerous places, with heavy equipment, and even drive dangerous vehicles. The natural consequence of this is death from diseases, accidents, and numerous other sources. If anyone is to be blamed for this condition it is Satan and not God. Yes, I know, Job said, “Jehovah gave and Jehovah hath taken away; blessed be the name of Jehovah” (Job 1:21). Again I say, God allowed it to be so with Job. The same is so with reference to our sufferings. Let us not sin by charging God foolishly (Job 1:22).

I have learned more insight into such passages as Romans 8:28. Some would say that, for the Christian, such tragic events are “good,” since the Bible says, “And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God” (Rom. 8:28). I want to answer that position and close this article with a lengthy quotation from a long letter written to my wife Frances and me the day after the funeral. The letter is from a preacher friend and loved one who, without doubt, has done more to help me in my preaching work than any other person. His comfort, advice, and counsel continue to be appreciated. During the intervening sixteen years, his insight into the matter has proven to be completely correct.

An incident like this is one that you really never get over. There is no point in kidding ourselves about that. There will be a certain blight over your life for the remainder of your days. Probably the experience will so affect your heart that you will be able to reach out to people in a way that you never quite could do so before. I believe that a lot of brethren have severely misapplied Romans 8:28 and try to make whatever occurs as “good” where as Paul specifically was talking about suffering for Christ being for our good. Such an accident is one of the misfortunes of life. I know you had such high hopes for Gary and the use he would make for his life. No doubt in my mind, he would have followed in your steps and preached the gospel, which intention itself is a noble tribute to both of you. So many preachers have murmured and complained about their sufferings as preachers until preaching is the last thing their sons would want to do.

I wish so badly there were somehow some way that I could lift a part of your burden and bear it for you, but as we both know, there is no real way that such can be done. I can only weep with you as you weep. Beyond this we seem to be unable to go. There are apt to be days when the burden may tempt you be become bitter and cynical, but resist that temptation as much as possible. The admirable way that you conducted yourself during the funeral service makes me even hesitate to mention that admonition. Perhaps I am only thinking as I might think, in similar circumstances.

This admonition, advice, and comfort is the kind I would like to give to our readers and to all who may suffer. I would that I could do it so ably and so eloquently.

Guardian of Truth XXXII: 17, pp. 527-529, 550
September 1, 1988

By Leslie D. Weatherhead

“When they are making a Persian rug, they it up vertically on a frame, and little boys, sitting at various levels, work on the wrong side of it. The artist stands on the right side of the rug, the side on which people will tread, and shouts his instructions to the boys on the other side. Sometimes a boy will make a mistake in the rug. . .’What happens when a boy makes a mistake? ”Quite often the artist does not make the little boy take out the wrong color. If he is a great enough artist, he weaves the mistake into the pattern.’ . . . You and I are working on the wrong side of the rug. We cannot watch the pattern developing. I know I put in the wrong color very often. I put in black when God meant red, and yellow when he meant white; and the other workers with whom I make my rug make mistakes, too. Sometimes I am tempted to say, ‘is there anybody on the other side of the rug-, am I just left to make a mess of my life alone? Is there anybody there?, Then, through the insight which comes back with returning faith, I realize that instead of making me undo it all or letting my life’s purpose be ruined, God puts more in. I wonder if sometimes He alters the pattern? It isn’t what it might have been; but because he is such a great artist I haven’t quite spoiled everything. So, at the end, when he calls me down off my plank and takes me round to the other side, I shall see that just because He is such a great artist, no mistakes of mine can utterly spoil His plan. If only I will work with Him, ‘simply trusting every day.’ I think one day I shall find my mistakes a my calamities and my distress and my failures a all my pain, woven into the pattern, and I shall so ‘it is the Lord’s doing, and it is marvelous in our eye Some such faith I must have to believe in a God of love who puts us into a world where things can so utterly wrong” (Leslie D. Weatherhead Men Suffer? pp. 134,135).

Guardian of Truth XXXII: 17, p. 516
September 1, 1988

By S. Leonard Tyler

Grief-stricken victims cry out, “What in the world can I do? I have tried to live right all my life, and now look at me! This has robbed me of everything. My life is ruined! No one is left who cares for me. I have nothing left to live for – what’s the use?” or, “I have betrayed myself and those who trust me. Although I have tried hard to straighten everything out, it has been to no avail. This seems to end my chances to ever amount to anything. I have repented genuinely and confessed and prayed to be forgiven, but no one seems to accept my efforts. My mistake follows me everywhere I go. Nothing is ever said about my repentance and correcting the wrong (!in). I feel as David: ‘No one cares for my soul . . . my sin is ever before me! (Psa. 142:4; 51:3) What can I do?” Such are grief’s fruits as it develops, regardless of the cause that opened the door: tragedy, whether being sinned against or having committed sin, brings these results. These results are hard to deal with but can be handled with care.

What Is Grief?

Grief is a common emotional heart/mind problem. Grief is just as real as a broken leg, and all suffer some of her fruits more or less in life. Webster’s New World Dictionary defines it: “Intense emotional suffering caused by loss, disaster, etc.; acute sorrow, deep sadness; a cause or the subject of such suffering . . . come to grief, to meet with difficulty or failure.” Her fruits are the same, but one suffers according to the depth of grief: anxiety, insecurity, unhappiness, sorrow, discontentment, distress, gloom. dejection, self-guilt (for every ill), loss of self-confidence and even self-respect.

If you are the unfortunate, grief-stricken victim, what may you expect? Grief wraps her curtains of gloom tightly around her victims. Mental anguish blocks clear and positive thinking. Thus the victim seeking relief often turns to some physical pleasure or lust-fulfilling desire to overcome the depression, only to later learn he has complicated the problems; and grief tightens her grip, squeezing her victim in to despair. Grief can rob one of all purpose and hope in this life. Therefore, we ask, “What can be done?” Have you tried the Lord?

God’s Means Of Healing

God is the Creator and Lawgiver of all things through Jesus Christ (Heb. 1:2; Eph. 3:9; Col. 1:16-17; Jas. 4:12). The laws of procreation and preservation are established and called “natural laws” or “nature.” Thus all healing depends upon God’s provisions. Doctors cannot heal. They are, in many cases, an essential part of the healing process (Matt. 9-12) – but no healer. As a well-known, practicing surgical physician related his observation to me: “We physicians are said to be members of the healing guild or profession, but we can heal no one. It takes a higher power than doctors possess to heal. Ali, it’s true, we can remove the defective body parts that would otherwise destroy the whole, give special drugs to slow or kill the infectious germs and viruses, etc., which cause the bacteria effecting disease;. but the body must respond with the healing power.” This is known as the natural healing process. Have you not heard doctors say, “We must now wait for his response”? This is the healing period, the recovery from the surgery. This means that the patient must respond with his own potential to the healing. Doctors cannot heal.

The patient needs the right care – encouragement to keep his spirits up. He should be able to choose his own source of encouragement, so long as it does not disturb, complicate, or interfere with the healing. The more effective the encouragement is, the more weight it yields to the healing. Doctors recognize and accept a wholesome attitude and positive disposition to be great and valuable assets to the healing. One’s attitude – confidence and “righting spirit” – has so much influence upon the healing.

However, a word of caution is needed here. The overawareness of the delicate feelings characterizing the patient can so easily lead one to accept some fictitious or unfounded remedies: pseudo-miraculous claims, superstitious practices, witchcraft, alcohol or other drugs, or lustful, immoral flounderings, anything to kill the agony of gloom, depression, and grief. However, such leads one deeper and deeper into grief’s control.

Good health must be reached and maintained in reality, not make-believe. That is within the bounds of truth and right. The “feel good” theories, experiences, sensations, highs, even psychological satisfactions, run contrary to reality, right and truth. Truth and right must be the reasons upon which any program is accepted, since truth and right are essentials for real success. Substitutes may bring momentary relief, but, when life starts crumbling around you, reality will tell the rest of the story. This should impress all of us with the importance of our study – Grief: God’s Means of Healing. This does not mean miraculous healing. It is healing through God’s provided way of self-preservation. Let me illustrate:

In the very morning of creation God saw the loneliness of man and said, “It is not good that man should be alone; I will make him a helper comparable to him” (Gen. 2:18, NKJV). Thus God made woman for a companion – a helper suited for man. If man or woman refuses God’s plan, he or she refuses one of God’s provisions to prevent and also heal grief. Man and woman are complements to each other in this life. They are the basis for the family. Marriage is one of the great divine organizations for man’s propagation and stabilization. A greater unit for a contented and stablized life cannot be found. Marriage gives each member (as children come) a fundamental feeling of belonging, loving and being loved, wanting and being wanted, caring and being cared for and unselfishly and joyfully sacrificing for the good of others, thereby finding fulfillment and contentment. Isn’t it tragic to observe the deterioration of the home, robbing man and society of its wonderful and stablizing influence for good?

I recognize the quibbles about marriage (time and space refuse me to discuss them) and the difficulties and fidelity problems involved. Notwithstanding, I wish I were able to establish in the minds of all the great principles, positive influences, and loving provisions marriage offers for man’s good. Husbands should love their own wives and wives should love their own husbands and become as one – each possessing and being possessed – by his own choice. They want each other. . . Husbands to love their wives as themselves, and wives to submit themselves to their husbands, not by force, but love. They want each other. They want children to rear in the nurture and admonition of the Lord is loving care… Children to honor their father and mother with absolute love and respect. Then, when mother and father have needs or grow old, they have someone to lean on. This is another of God’s ways to heal sorrow, gloom, and grief. Mother and father, your opportunities are fast passing to build a refuge for a contented future. You now are building by training, giving, loving, and sharing with them today. Consequently your grief, will be lifted when you hear their voice through tears say, “Mother or father, I still love you. You still have me. We have one another.” Then, as the days slowly creep and clouds filled with rain hang heavily over your head, or cold weather fastens you in and loneliness fills the house, you hear a car pull up, stop, and little feet patter on the walk; the door flies open, and grandchildren cry out, “Grandfather/mother, look what we brought!” They throw both arms around your neck and give you a great big kiss and say, “I love you.” Paul said, “But my God shall supply all your need according to his riches in glory by Christ Jesus” (Phil. 4:19). God’s help does not come by miracles, but through the touch of those who really love you – through your own family. This is one of God’s means of healing grief to those who will open their hearts and receive it. God provides; but man must accept with love, respect, and confidence.

The More Abundant Life

Defeatism is the response, “I have no family. I have lost them. We are torn apart. I have no companionship, no communication, no love, nothing to hold to.” But wait! The Lord has not failed you. You may have made a mistake — sinned – but he still stands with pleading hands, “Return. Come back home; I will give you rest.” Remember the prodigal son. He came to himself and went back home (Luke 15). This illustrates God’s love and desire to receive those who will repent of wrongs. Come back to him and he will forgive, receive, and commend you to a greater life. This is another means of God’s healing sorrow and grief. Take refuge in Christ. “Therefore take up the whole armor of God, that you may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand. Stand therefore” (Eph. 6:13,14a). Victory lies ahead. “Draw near to God and He win draw near to you. . . Resist the devil and he will flee from you” (Jas. 4:7,8). Take hold of the hand that never changes nor weakens. He will never fail you nor forsake you (Heb. 13:5). The fact that Christ will never leave us is very consoling and comforting. He said, “And lo, I am with you always, even unto the end of the world” (Matt. 28:20). Faith in Christ gives one personal comfort, courage, hope, and patience to keep on in the faith until the race is won (Heb. 3:12; Rom. 2:7-11).

Faith Helps In This Life

All spiritual blessings come by grace through faith. God provides the means by his grace, and man accepts God’s provisions through faith. Faith is produced and sustained by hearing God’s word (Rom. 10:17; 2 Cor. 4:13; Heb. 4:2). Faith accepts: “all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to his purpose. . . If God is for us, who can be against us?” (Rom. 8:28,3 1) Thus faith lifts man’s vision and aspirations from the material to the spiritual, from man’s thinking and wisdom to God’s thinking and wisdom (Phil. 3:7-10,20). Paul testified, “. . . for I know whom I have believed, and am persuaded that he is able to keep that which I have committed unto him against that day” (2 Tim. 1:12). Paul does not lose sight of the reality of life in a troubled, wicked world. He accepts it with confidence and assurance in Christ. Faith does not remove reality. It does not change the natural laws nor problems necessarily, such as: temptation, pain, sickness, financial disappointment, tragedies, and even death. Faith gives you reason to endure in hope and to right courageously, the determination to see it through, and the strength to win. Listen to Paul’s explanation, “We are hard pressed on every side, yet not crushed; we are perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed” (2 Cor. 4:8-9). Faith gives courage to overcome. Never give depression time to create anxiety in your heart; it leads to uncertainty, uneasiness, self-guilt, and on to grief. Arthur Somers Roche wisely observed, “Anxiety is a thin stream of fear trickling through the mind. If encouraged, it cuts a channel into which all other thoughts are drained” (Reader’s Digest, June 1988, p. 64). Thus one must “keep your heart with all diligence; for out of it spring the issues of life” (Prov. 4:23).

Paul gives his defense against fear, anxiety, and grief. “I have learned in whatever state I am, to be content … both to abound and to suffer need … I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me” (Phil. 4:11-13). Thus faith undermines grief’s reasoning and gives you a right to expect victory over all your problems – or gives you strength to endure. Paul asked the Lord three times to remove the thorn from his flesh. The Lord said, “My grace is sufficent for you, for my strength is made perfect in weakness” (2 Cor. 12:9). He wrote the Philippians, “And my God shall supply all your need according to his riches in glory by Christ Jesus” (Phil. 4:19). He recognized God “will not allow you to be tempted beyond what you are able, but with the temptation will also make the way of escape, that you may be able to bear it” (1 Cor. 10:13, NKJV). The Lord will never forsake you; he will fulfill every promise made. Your efforts in the Lord never go unnoticed (I Cor. 15:58). Man may forsake you, but not God. On one occasion, said Paul, “all forsook me. . . But the Lord stood with me and strengthened me” (2 Tim. 4:16-17). God helps those who help themselves by faith.

God Helps Heal Grief Through Comfort

The brethren at Appii Forum and Three Inns so greatly comforted Paul that Luke wrote, “he thanked God and took courage” (Acts 28:15). Titus also comforted him by coming to him, and Titus was also comforted by the Corinthians’ reception (2 Cor. 7:5-6). The Corinthians were instructed to be forgiving toward the erring brother upon his repentance and to comfort and restore him (2 Cor. 2). God helps heal grief through the brethren. He told the Galatians, “Bear one another’s burdens and so fulfill the law of Christ” (Gal. 6:2). Communication – sharing love in both “word and deed” -lifts the burdens of sorrow, anxiety, and grief. Grief’s stronghold is loneliness. Man needs someone on whom to lean. Jesus said, “Love one another as I have loved you” (Jn. 15:12). John wrote, “. . for he who does not love his brother whom he has seen, how can he love God whom he has not seen? ” (1 Jn. 4:20) Sharing one with another helps relieve grief: visit, communicate, show love and deep concern with action; that’s what helps.

The Providence of God

The providence of God, to me, is God’s omnipotence being manifest, not through miraculous performance, but rather through the natural, established, set order or law. God is; and, as Abraham expressed it, “He is able and will fulfill every promise made.” “He is as good as his word” is an old cliche but an absolute in this case. Thus, prayer is a great power in healing grief to the believer. “And this is the confidence that we have in Him, that if we ask anything according to his will, he hears us. And if we know that he hears us, whatever we ask, we know that we have the petitions that we have asked of him” (1 Jn. 5:14,15). This is – and other texts could be given – an assurance that God hears and answers prayers. No one is able to declare the extent of help given nor just what means might be used to bring it about, only “according to his will”; and he makes the decision, not me. This is, to me, a spiritual reality; God will fulfill every promise within the bounds of His will. God cannot lie. Christ prayed, and so must we: “Thy will be done, not mine.” This is true, living, active, assuring faith: “It will be as God said.” So I pray in confidence that “the effective, fervent prayer of a righteous man avails much” (Jas. 5:16). No, we must wait patiently for God’s own time. It will be as God promised. We stand upon the everlasting promises of God, and all is well with my life and my soul. “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,

I will fear no evil: for thou art with me. . . The Lord is my helper, And I will not fear. What shall man do to me?” (Psa. 23:4; Heb. 13:6)

Guardian of Truth XXXII: 17, pp. 531-533
September 1, 1988

By L.A. Stauffer

Adversity destroys. Adversity builds up. One man when affliction strikes turns to the bottlle, self-pity, self-indulgence – to elements that devastate his self-respect and subverts his worth to himself, society, and God. Another person under similar circumstances looks to God, the power of his word, and sustaining faith – to principles that strengthen the inner man and supply eternal values that reach beyond the groanings of the flesh. The difference between the two is love for the Lord. “And we know that to them that love God all things work together for good” (Rom. 8:28).

Adversity in this respect is much like marriage. A recent survey revealed that couples in successful marriages and unsuccessful marriages fight over the same things. The difference in the two is the way they handle these problems. So it is with trials. Suffering and affliction are no respecters of persons. They come to the righteous and unrighteous, rich and poor, black and white, male and female, old and young. When God cursed the earth because of sin, the effects were universal. Every man must begin by accepting that fact. This reality, though, is more palatable to the man of faith.

Adversity itself is not good. It, at the outset, was the win of the devil – not God. Satan is the one who lied to Adam and Eve, knowing that death would result. God willed that they live forever. Death came, however, from a righteous and just God who cursed sinful man and the earth where he dwelt. This condemnation left in its wake a sordid mass of suffering and affliction.

Adversity, though, can produce good in the lives of those who face it by faith in God. James tells brethren that temptations or trials prove Christians – show their genuiness. Faith under fire works steadfastness and moves disciples to perfection and maturity and wholeness in the Lord (Jas. 1:2-4). The strength amidst the weakness of affliction that the apostle Paul found to overcome pride is available to Christians today by the sufficiency of grace (2 Cor. 12:7-10).

My fife, contrary to many others, has been plagued with very little adversity. I was reared by godly parents, my needs were adequately supplied, and our family has enjoyed reasonably good health to this day. I married a dedicated Christian and by God’s grace and her help trained four children who are all faithful members of the church. We likewise were a healthy bunch until the spring of 1978. The day was April 5, my mother’s birthday. Shirley, my wife, had just returned from the doctor and came to the living room, where tears streamed down her face and she uttered that terrifying word – CANCER. She had a lump in her breast. Tremors raced as shock waves up and down every nerve fiber in my being. In stunned silence I held her in my arms.

Prayer was an immediate response to this news. Shirley’s next and ongoing reaction was reading the epistle of Philippians. Many mornings I found the Bible open to this letter of “joy in affliction,” where she had left it sometime in the middle of a sleepless night. I myself began reading the epistle quite often. That and prayer. I remember so well the day of her mastectomy – her birthday, April 8. There we sat together in the hospital parking lot hand-in-hand praying and bracing our hearts and souls for what lay ahead. Call it “denial,” “naivete,” “misinformation,” or “faith,” but after the surgery I dismissed completely the idea of death. Neither doctor nor friend gave me any reason to think otherwise. To me it was a lump in the breast that had been removed. Later, when other lumps appeared I believed chemotherapy would destroy them and any remnants elsewhere.

“Disbelief” and “panic” are the two words that come to mind when I remember the doctor’s call to me July 8, 1981. Two days before, Shirley had changed doctors, disillusioned by the way she felt and the lack of information she was receiving. For the first time I was told her real condition -and it was shattering. The doctor informed me that the cancer had spread throughout her body, that she would be rational for only an hour or two, and that she could live, maybe, another three days. Early on the fourth day at 6:00 o’clock, July 12, she passed through the dark corridor of death.

During those three days and the months that followed, my feelings scaled the full gamut of emotions – compassion, grief, fear, anger, guilt, loneliness, relief, and, of course, why. Not once did I doubt that these feelings must be met with faith, prayer, Bible study, meditation, and friends. These avenues provide answers, comfort, power, strength, hope, fulfillment, character, even the joy that James wrote about. Yes, out of trials good can come. The lessons learned are not necessarily new, but they come with an intensity the conscience can never quite escape.

Death is Real. One answer that came so vividly is the reality of death. How many times I had parroted Hebrews 9:27 at funerals – “it is appointed unto man once to die. ” But not once until 1981 do I remember taking that thought to heart. It never seriously occurred to me – “today I might die.” That has all changed. A day seldom passes and hardly a prayer is uttered without thanksgiving for the day and for life itself. I find no relief, even to this moment, from the constant reminder that my earthly journey could end immediately. And how unimportant this is to being ready when the Lord comes: to the reordering of priorities, the setting of proper goals, the stirring of passion for the Lord. Shirley had to die. I have to die. It is reality. By faith in God I accept it and understand why.

Death is Gain. It was comforting to stand by the bedside of a Christian. After watching her body writhe and twist in its fight against the relentless torture of a disease that ate away at every nerve, I kept remembering Philippians “to die is gain” (1:21). 1 have since regaled myself many times with escape from this world of suffering, the beauties of heaven, the thrill of seeing God and the Lord who died for me, the excitement of knowing intimately heroes of faith. After wrestling one you love for three days to keep from strapping her in bed, it is a relief, indeed, to give them over to the Lord and rejoice that death’s agonizing grip has been pried loose.

Anger toward Satan. Death may be gain, but it is still torment to watch a once vibrant, witty, fun-loving person slowly and painfully reduced to a cold, lifeless mass of flesh. It can turn a calm and peaceable man into an angry, hateful specimen who hardly recognizes himself. I am not by nature vindictive. The feelings I experienced were abnormal and scary. It was unlike me to clench my fist, glare at a hospital wall, and mentally drive my knuckles time after time into its surface. And it was not, I hasten to say, any bitterness toward God. I never once felt that. It was an intense hatred for Satan, the old devil and adversary himself – the one behind all this misery. I despised him with a passion. And I felt a depth of malice toward sin that I had not known: an angry rage that to this day I often try to recapture. I need this each day and often pray for it.

Compassion for Sufferers. Another feeling I seek to duplicate is the compassion I felt for Shirley. When you have suffered little in life, it’s difficult to “feel with” others who hurt. Jesus came in the flesh and endured what man experiences to become a “merciful” high priest who can be “touched with the feeling of our infirmities” (see Heb. 2:17,18; 4:14-16). Mercy, as in the example of our Lord, is the ability to remember those who are in bonds as bound with them and those who are ill-treated as being in their body (Heb. 13:2).

Compassion arises naturally when it’s one’s wife, or husband, or parents, or children who suffer. Having been joined in spirit and so intimately attached to Shirley for nearly 25 years, I found myself emotionally coming unglued: literally aching and helplessly crying for her. I have tried since to hurt like this for others who suffer. Although that is not possible, the experience has enhanced my feelings and enriched my prayers on their behalf.

Drawing near to God. Nothing is quite as devastating in the death of a mate as loneliness. Ask any widow or widower what the greatest loss is and to a person they will likely say – companionship. Absence of cooking, cleaning, washing, even sex pale in comparison to an empty chair across the room that cannot respond to heartaches, joys, jokes, need for advice or a visit. An aching emptiness and void prevail where a part of the oneness the two shared has been torn away. Times comes when one has to get out of the house, take a long walk, visit friends, go get an ice cream cone – anything to flee from the “presence of absence.” The one thing, however, that must stay day after day is companionship with God. Meditation and prayer, for me, arose spontaneously, emerged more frequently, lasted longer, were more intense, and became more personal – an ever present help for a desolate spirit that yearned for a life that could not be recalled. And, more importantly, they entered the permanent life of this brother – who marvels that he survived spiritually when they were but distant friends. May God forgive me!

Draw near to Brethren. Two significant occasions are to this day etched in my memory. The first came two weeks after Shirley died. I was scheduled for a Gospel Meeting in Kentucky and was given an opportunity to cancel. I decided to go. I spent that week in the home of dear friends with whom I talked and talked and talked. We reminisced and shared stories the entire week about Shirley. The memories were sweet, entertaining, amusing, uplifting, fulfilling – companions to a lonely soul. A few months later this was repeated over dinner with a couple who had faced the death of their companions. Again, memories flooded my mind. The two listened and counseled. Others were patient to lend an ear when I needed to talk, recount the past, and resurrect in my spirit one who could no longer stand by my side. There were priceless experiences: times that win never let me forget the spiritual family into which I have been born a family that gave me help when I suffered and may, as did I, need help when they hurt.

Forget the Past. I have since Shirley’s death often counsel led those who have lost mates not to be too quick to forget. Memory is a wonderful quality, a remarkable healing balm that must be permitted to do its work on spirits wounded by the death of a mate. But life must go one (see Phil. 3:13). The time comes when one must forget the “memory of life” and face the “reality of life.” A man’s loneliness, his loss must be only temporary. Life can shine again with the brightness it once radiated.

Time is an excellent physician and gradually applies its healing skills to the injuries of the inward man. Even before remarriage was considered I began renewing old goals, making new plans, and concentrating again on how I might be useful in the Lord’s work. I finished a college degree, dabbled in cooking, traveled, spent more time with my kids, visited friends I hadn’t seen for years – much of which were fillers until I could fully concentrate again on serious Bible study, home studies, sermon preparation, reading, and writing. I slowly left the past and its pain behind.

More than a year had past before remarriage had become a serious option. Then suddenly it happened. Charlotte Leaver, a faithful Christian at Kirkwood, where I preach, had lost her husband shortly after Shirley died. Almost immediately when we began to date I was as infatuated as a teenager. Love blossomed, we committed ourselves to one another, and were married August 20, 1983. The following note I wrote her a little more than a year ago summarizes what my life has been since we two became one flesh. The note says something every widower learns vividly and every husband should tell his wife often – a worthy woman is a gift of God, a crown to her husband, and her price is far above rubies (Prov. 12:4; 19:14; 31:10,28,29).

“I am always a little concerned that I don’t tell you often enough what you mean to me and how much I need you in my life. I do, with few exceptions, remember to thank God daily for you.

“As I grow older, life becomes much more serious to me. I feel a greater need than I ever have to preach the gospel, to preach it plainly, to preach it fervently, and especially to try harder to reach the lost. And what is really exciting about it is that you share these interests. This is an encouragement I need.

“I sometimes find it beyond belief how much you meet every need I have. You are so patient when I’m moody, so encouraging when I’m struggling, so satisfying when I have physical needs – so perfect for me in every way. I prayed when I was single that God would help me not to do anything foolish. I am so glad I prayed that prayer – because as an answer he gave me you, and that, other than deciding to obey the gospel and to preach, is the wisest decision I ever made. I love you so much, and I hope I never give you reason to doubt that.

“Thanks for being you and being everything I need as a wife, a companion, a helper, and a lover.”

Guardian of Truth XXXII: 17, pp. 517-519
September 1, 1988