July 17 2018 – Click here to listen
I had a long talk with a good friend of mine yesterday and it was good to hear his voice. His body has been ravaged by cancer for the past 16 years, he has a heart valve leaking, and nearly every vertebra in his back is cracked which causes excruciating pain for him. He was in the hospital yet again for another surgery to remove some screws, pins, and a metal rod from his back and to try and cement his broken vertebrae in various places. He will undergo that surgery tomorrow. He has taken chemo so many times I have lost count. Currently he is on radiation again to try and stop the cancer from spreading and he is very weak. Please pray for him.
I wanted to know all about his health and his chances for improvement, but he wanted to know about the macular degeneration in my eyes and how my deteriorating back was holding up. I told him I wanted to talk about his maladies and not mine. He remarked that perhaps we went at life too hard and now we were beat up and worn to a frazzle. I poo-pooed that idea about living life to the maximum and said that we went at it at just the right speed – Full throttle. We are good enough friends that we can talk candidly about dying. He was telling me that now the quality of his life was at such a low ebb he was reaching a point where heaven was sounding better and better. I concurred, but I reminded him of something.
First, I told him I’ve never seen anyone any tougher than he is. I would not have endured the suffering and fought nearly as long or hard for life and would have raised the white flag many years ago. He has endured more pain than anyone can imagine. He has suffered uncontrollable nausea, diarrhea and side effects such as diabetes, blood clots, headaches, and so on from his various treatments that are beyond cruel. Through it all he has remained optimistic and has hidden his agonizing trials from all but his wife and closest friends.
So, was it worth it? I reminded him that I’ve seen him down, but I’ve also seen him sky high when a particular treatment worked, and the cancer went into remission for a season until it found a way to come alive again. It was during those times of remission that he enjoyed quality time with his wife and friends. He lit up when we began reliving all the various turkey hunts, deer hunting trips, and fishing outings we had enjoyed together. He brought up the Mexican joint that we frequent and the many lobster dinners and fish fry dinners we cooked. I reminded him of his going through all the castles of England, spending Christmas in Canada, enjoying his home in Montana, and many other trips taken with his wife just in the last few years. We laughed and talked for an hour as we reminded each other of our many adventures together.
He told me as he looks back on it he is exceedingly glad that he fought so hard for life all those years. He even mentioned that he still has hope that maybe this next round of the battle will buy him a few more years, but then he somberly told me that if it doesn’t, he is ready to meet Jesus. Then he told me something that brought tears to my eyes. He said, “You know Bob I want to thank you, because you’ve done more for me than anyone else.” I told him that was nonsense. Then he said, “I’ll be honest with you Bob, I was struggling with my faith when I first met you and was really. . . uh . . . well lost. You helped me get straightened out to the point where I no longer wonder IF I’m going to heaven, but WHEN. I know that I will spend eternity with Jesus and I owe you and want to thank you.”
That is the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me and I’ll be eternally grateful to him for telling me that, but I told him that he didn’t owe me anything. I said, “We both have been “rode hard and hung up wet” and now are hobbling around and showing the effects, but we have lived life on this planet to the fullest. His debt like mine is to Jesus who provides everlasting life to us despite our failing Him on so many occasions. His love for us will be demonstrated forever and whenever my number is called I will shed this worn out dilapidated body and I’ll be able to see, hear, smell, and run all over heaven pain free.
We’re just getting started friends.
Thank you Jesus for enduring your pain, humiliation, and suffering on the cross in order that we may spend eternity with You!
2 Tim. 4:6
For I am already being poured out like a drink offering, and the time of my departure is at hand. I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. From now on the crown of righteousness is laid up for me, which the Lord, the righteous judge, will award to me on that day – and not only to me, but to all who crave His appearing . . .