“He healeth all our diseases…” (Psalm 103:3)
In the old Western novels, cowboys are taught that once a wound begins to itch, healing is on its way.
On January 23, a little over two weeks ago, my wife had what appears to have been a pulmonary embolism which triggered a cardiac arrest. That was a Friday and on Wednesday night, with the counsel of doctors, my family made the decision to unplug life support. My wife of nearly 53 years had not responded to any of the stimuli and treatments. A physician friend said to me later, “Your wife died in the nail salon on Friday.”
It would appear so.
I’ve wept ever since. We had a memorial service on Monday, February 2, and family members have been helping me with a thousand and one details. Two wonderful ladies from our church spent the day here last Friday cleaning the house from top to bottom. I’m still eating meals people brought.
And I’m still weepy. I asked a friend, “When do the tears stop?” She answered, “I don’t know yet. Jim’s only been gone 14 years.”
I do not grieve for Margaret. She was living with such pain and infirmities, and now that is all gone. She is with the Lord, out of this pain and misery and dancing with the redeemed of the ages, if God’s Word can be believed.
I’m betting my life that it can.
A large number of people assure me they are praying for God’s healing for me.
Healing. What a nice concept.
When I was a kid growing up on the Alabama farm, sometimes in the woods out of sheer devilment I would cut a vine that had wrapped itself around a small sapling, and unwind it. It fell to the ground and left the sapling standing. I found it fascinating to study the indentations where that vine had impressed itself into the small tree.
That’s me without Margaret. Almost every detail of my life had revolved around her, everything from buying groceries to cleaning the house, to scheduling speaking invitations, to transporting her to appointments with physicians, clinics, therapists, and medical supply stores. Margaret enjoyed hearing these articles and almost invariably her suggestions were solid. She knew the meaning of more words than I and had an innate sense as to when a word was wrong.
And now, all that is gone. As I say, I do not grieve for Margaret; my tears are for Joe. In a long lifetime, this is the first time I’ve ever lived alone. It will take some getting used to.
Signs of healing begin to appear….
Today I prayed for my pastor who after ministering so faithfully in our crisis now has to move on to the next family who needs him. We remain here, stuck by our grief and trying to deal with this house (and my life) suddenly made empty by my wife’s abrupt departure. But Pastor Mike moves on. So I prayed for the Lord to strengthen him and use him with the other families as He did with us.
That’s a sign of healing, that my thoughts are not for my grief alone.
I pray for my friend Jack, lying in that hospital bed in Monroe, Louisiana, the cancers spreading faster than the doctors can catch them. His precious wife hovers by his side, and keeps all the prayer supporters informed. Jack is a deacon and Marian a Bible teacher; I baptized them both over 40 years ago and treasure their friendship. They are much on my heart and in my thoughts.
Last night late, I got out of bed and wrote down something the Holy Spirit was saying to me. The note reads:
“Her work was done, but mine goes on.”
I find that comforting and consider it a reminder straight from the Father. Margaret had taught her last Bible study, had encouraged her last pastor’s wife, had supported her final ministry. Now, the Father took her home.
My work goes on. And what work is that? I wrote this down:
“Preach the Word. Love my family. Write these books. Draw some cartoons. Encourage the faithful. Witness to the others. Give to the needy.
“Repeat as necessary.”
This morning early while walking in the neighborhood I realized that I could host a Bible study in our living room. Years ago I led one down the street in another home, but this time I can host one. While Margaret was sick, this would have been unmanageable for a thousand reasons, but now….
So, the healing continues.
So thankful to a thousand friends for ten thousand prayers. So ready to encourage someone else going through this wretched valley of tears. God is faithful, and I want to be also.
You ARE so faithful and I am thankful for your continued ministry. I am thankful that you didn’t ‘quit’ when things were hard. And even though you ‘retired’ from full time ministry, you really aren’t retired, but continue to minister just as much, but in different ways. What a blessing you have been, you are and you will be until the Lord takes you home!!!
There are definite signs of healing in this writing, Brother Joe, even though you were probably writing this through your tears. Yesterday at church we all prayed for you, and I made the comment to Brother Bill that certainly you will have more material to write about for the rest of your life. And when you reach out to others who are going through similar situations, you will know exactly how they feel and you will share their pain in a way more real than ever before. I think both Margaret and God are speaking to you and encouraging you to continue your work and share your story.
2Co 1:3 Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort,
2Co 1:4 who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God.
Isn’t it amazing how our Lord speaks comfort to His children. I can’t understand how anyone would get through something such as this without His comfort,grace and now the healing process. I said earlier in another message that things would come together in His timing and it is! I praise the Lord for your faithfulness and willingness to be still and listen to His voice. Joe, you got this, I promise, cause He is still on the throne!
I ache, truly ache with you. May the God of all comfort and strength continue to be your comfort and strength as the days pass slowly by.
Bro. Joe. I’m not sure what I did to deserve getting to know you at such an early age in my life. You have always been and continue to be a blessing to me. Sorry that you’re going through this, but thankful for the testimonies (many) that you’re sharing with us! Grateful for your ministry. God will see you through. So good to see the healing begin. Love in Christ. Dean
Thank you, Dean. How well I remember when you came to know Christ at the age of 16. You are a keeper, young lady.
may God’s strength and love surround you and fill you with peace. May each day be filled with beautiful memories to erase the tears and fill you with joy.
My goodness, what a blessing you are. As usual, your words brought tears but somehow in some supernatural way, they bear witness to my spirit and spur me on.
I feel like the engine that could…..thank you for your faithfulness.
What a blessing you have been to so many as you share this heart-wrenching time in your life. Today’s words give people with similar losses a guide to healing. My parents, Bob and Mary Simmons, loved and admired you very much. I share that admiration. I continue to pray for you.
Aw, thank you, Ann. I loved Bob and Mary. They were best friends with James and Cissa Richardson (of Leland, then Madison), who were the dearest of the dear to me. Thank you.
You haven’t retired. It doesn’t get much easier. I think of my Daddy every day and there are many days I cry for him and wish he was here. I don’t know why God took him at 75. I wasn’t ready for him to be gone but God was. There are so many times I could ask him questions (tears). They don’t stop … I think it’s our selfishness. We don’t want to let go. Imagine how much better our loved ones are. No more suffering, no more pain. In the presence of our Lord..,I can only imagine. Keep up your good work
Still praying for you. Keep extwrnalizing those thoughts and feelings. I write and talk! Praying for you!! Love, from a former college and career student of yours! Dyh.