I recently had the privilege of being able to share in front of a room of others my thoughts on how believers in Jesus Christ ought to suffer, and even how to die well. It should look much different than that of someone who is not sure of their eternal destination. It just should. I was also able to share a few examples from over the years, beginning with that of my father, and I’ve been thinking of him ever since.
My father obtained his United States citizenship by serving in the US Army during the Korean War, and was therefore able to be followed at the VA Hospital in Detroit when he was undergoing chemotherapy and radiation for cancer at the Detroit Medical Center. Followup at the VA was necessary so that some of his medications could be financially covered. What a blessing that was!
When the oncologist at the DMC told him he was cured, my Dad was so thrilled, and so relieved. Following that appointment, I took him to follow up at the VA , and we saw the oncologist there. The physician was a small Orthodox Jewish man, and my Dad was so excited to tell him he’d been cured. I’ll never forget it.
But that doctor stopped, pulled his chair up in front of my Dad, and he put his hands on my Dad’s knees. He then looked right at him, and said, “I don’t care who told you that you are cured. You are NOT cured. Lymphoma hides in a major organ, and it will come back, and when it comes back, it will come back with a vengeance, and it will kill you.”
My Dad didn’t know what to say, and he started crying, and asked the doctor in what seemed like a desperate plea for some sort of hope, “What do I do, Doc?” And with his hands still firmly planted on my Dad’s knees, he continued to look straight at him and said, “Every single morning that you wake up, you thank God. THAT is what you do!”
And he did. He thanked his infusion nurses, he thanked the ambulance drivers who brought him home when we put him in hospice two weeks later, and he shared very intimate words with each member of my family. He even tried to get out of bed to say one last goodbye to “Cookie Mary,” the wife of his childhood friend in Nova Scotia.
My Dad took that doctor’s words so very seriously.
I’ve had the opportunity to be with countless people as we removed endotracheal tubes and they took their last breaths, as well as in their homes under hospice care. I’ve seen the difference between those who KNOW Christ as Savior, and those who just mouth the right words. The difference is undeniable. Here are a few of the examples I was able to share recently.
- An older gentleman came in with difficulty breathing, a believer, diagnosed with lung cancer at a different hospital, but they were not truthful with him for whatever reason, or maybe he just didn’t understand his diagnosis. Our intensivist came in after we had gotten him off the vent, and shared in very simple terms that his lungs were full of tumors and his cancer had spread to multiple other places. He did not recommend reintubating him if he went into respiratory failure again. After the conversation, he thanked the doctor for being honest and asked what he should do. The doctor told him he should get his affairs in order. After the doctor left the room, I asked my patient how he was, having just heard that grim news, and he said, “I feel great. Someone finally told me the truth!” then asked me to hand him his phone. He then called his two best friends who visited that afternoon. I gave report to the night nurse, and when I returned for my shift, she was sitting with him and holding his hand while he passed. Her first death. She was baffled at his peace, and admitted it was nothing short of supernatural.
- My close friend had been suffering (well) with kidney cancer, and had made himself hospice when all treatment modalities failed. I went to visit him at the hospital before he was transferred to a facility, and found him sitting up in bed with his dinner tray. He had hot chocolate, chocolate cake, and chocolate ice cream. I said, “Jerry! What are you doing? You’re diabetic! He answered “who cares? I’m going home.” And we both laughed. A few days later, I visited him in the facility he had been transferred to, and found him sitting very quietly in a chair just looking peacefully out the window. I sat next to him, and asked him what he was thinking about. I’ll never forget it. Continuing to gaze out the window, Jerry answered, “I was just thinking that I’m getting ready to go to heaven and I get to spend eternity learning all about God, and I can’t WAIT!” This was our friend Jerry.
- One gentleman told me about a year prior to his death that cancer made his faith stronger, that his relationship with his wife and son was stronger, and that he wasn’t afraid to die. His wife knew his wishes. They pursued aggressive treatment, but when Jim wound up on a ventilator dying, they had no doubts about what the right thing to do was (for Jim), and he died peacefully shortly after stopping life support measures. That was our friend Jim Aragona. I have seen suffering bring huge amounts of grace. I’ve heard patients say that Jesus is nearer, realer, and stronger in suffering through what God has entrusted to them. This was the case with Jim.
- Here is a story about someone currently undergoing chemotherapy and radiation for cancer – One night about 11 p.m., I received a call from my friend who is still undergoing chemotherapy. I knew I should answer it, because at this late hour, it must be emergent. At the time, she was not quite sure what her prognosis was, and we had many phone conversations discussing all of the “what if’s.” I answered that late night phone call, and on the other end was my friend Marilyn singing, “Why Worry when you can pray? Trust Jesus, He will be your stay. Don’t be a doubting Thomas, lean fully on His promise, Why worry, worry, worry, worry when you can pray? And I KNEW, “Marilyn gets it.”
And the scripture that comes to my mind for these saints is 1 Thessalonians 4:13 that says, “we do not grieve as others do who have no hope.” Our suffering, our grief, our dying – it all looks different than that of the world’s. And I’ve had the privilege to have it modeled so well for me, so when my time comes I’ll have no excuses! LOL
I wear sneakers to work every day with my scrubs, and it is because of people like Jim Aragona, the gentleman with lung cancer, Jerry, Marilyn, and my Dad, that I call these sneakers my “school shoes.” We would all do well to watch those saints in the seasons of life in front of us. Don’t think for a minute that they are fresh out of wisdom to offer – it is quite the contrary.
And these saints are just a few who have modeled 1 Thessalonians 4:13 so well for me, and I hope now, for you as well.
“We do not grieve as others do who have no hope.” 1 Thessalonians 4:13
I love you. Keep doing the good work God had called you to, Rita. I thank you for sharing these testimonies. I too have one. Jesus will not fail us. He will not.