Last August, I shared how several years before, it must have been in 1983 or 84, I don’t remember, but my wife and I visited a brother, Len Bridges, who was dying of Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis (or ALS, also referred to as Lou Gehrig’s Disease). He had been in tremendous pain for months. We originally went to minister healing to him, but it ended up that he ministered to us.
I remember his wife telling us how they had prayed for healing and had several different Pastors lay hands on him, but the healing had not manifested yet. But Len’s wife said, “Even still, our Lord has blessed us.”
I remember him sitting in his wheel chair, next to his wife, Gerry, and proudly telling us how they had prepared his funeral—picked the hymns and the entire service. Len said, “The Lord has given us strength we did not know, and he gave it when we needed it, and not before.” His words were slurred, but clear enough to understand. What I remember the clearest was how peaceful and confident both of them were.
I sit here wondering what it would it would have like to be in my mid-forties, like Len was, and say good-bye to my kids and spouse. According to Len, “God has given us peace in our pain. He covers us all the time. Even when we are out of control, He is still there.”
While thinking about that time with Len and Gerry, I finally realize that Patrice and I were seeing, as Max Lucado once wrote, “holy jewels quarried out of the mine of despair.” Can I do that? Will I use a tragedy as a stumbling block . . . or as a steppingstone? Who were those two? How could they be so calm and peaceful? How could they see the pain, yet still look ahead with such faith?
The reality is that Len and Gerry had a sweet attitude and confident trust in their Lord; their Redeemer and friend. The two of them displayed such a wonderful peace and tremendous courage that I remember it all these years later.
There was no complaining, no sorrow, no questioning of the Lord’s greatness and faithfulness. Len explained that he felt a magnetic pull toward Jesus, and that he was “there with Christ” more than here on earth. He encouraged us with his rejoicing hope and rest in the Lord. He was truly a champion of our faith.
I once heard a minister say, “I just want to finish my work and get out of here.” Man that sure messed with people’s minds. They got all upset, thinking he was unthankful for the gift of life. But that wasn’t the case at all. The apostle Paul declared virtually the same thing. Paul’s constant desire was to be with the Lord.
That desire is growing in my own heart—in fact, I want it to grow! I want to be so close to my Messiah that when we meet face-to-face, it will be as though we have been there all the time. Almost every day I tell my Lord, “I love my family and I thank you for life. But I want to grow so close to you that there will be nothing here that satisfies me as much as you—not family, houses, land or wealth. I know that nothing here can touch my need. This world is simply a mirage. I do so long to be with you, Lord, in the ultimate reality.”
Father, my heart is fixed on you! Nothing more satisfies me as a few moments in your presence. I lay my heart before you and ask that you would fill me a deeper understanding and experience with you. Just like the Maiden in Salomon’s Song I cry out, “Kiss me—full on the mouth! Yes! For your love is better than wine, headier than your aromatic oils. The syllables of your name murmur like a meadow brook. No wonder everyone loves to say your name!
“Take me away with you! Let’s run off together! An elopement with my King-Lover! We’ll celebrate, we’ll sing, we’ll make great music. Yes! For your love is better than vintage wine. Everyone loves you—of course! And why not?”
