January 14, 2004 is a day that I will never forget. I was a sophomore in college at the time and the day began like most. I went to class and then to work not expecting anything out of the ordinary to happen. Later that day, I received news that rocked my world and forever changed me. My dad was diagnosed with small cell carcinoma lung cancer. His life expectancy: not long.
Two and half years before this, my dad had heart surgery and then ten days later, he had a stroke. The stroke initially left him paralyzed on his right side and unable to speak. After a few days in ICU, he began to regain movement in his foot and then eventually the movement spread up his leg and into his arm. After receiving therapy at the hospital, he was able to walk again but with a very noticeable limp. It took longer for his speech to come back but thankfully it did. He started off with some low sounds and eventually was able to speak a few words. After weeks of speech therapy, he was finally able to speak sentences but he was never able to have conversations like he did before he had a stroke.
The next two and half years were filled with a lot of frustration for him and our family. He was used to always being on-the-go. Working hard to make a living to support his family was at the core of his being and it was eating at him to not be able to do anything. We were thankful that God spared him because, as bad as the stroke was, the issue with his heart was considered worse. In May of 2001 he began having symptoms of heart trouble. Shortness of breath, pain in his arm, and mild pain in his chest. The doctor told him that he had pneumonia and that the symptoms should pass. In the back of my dad’s mind, he was concerned. Heart trouble ran on his mother’s side of the family. His mom at age 70 had open heart surgery to correct an issue with some blockages. She had a brother who, in his 40’s, died of a sudden heart attack. Then just seven years before my dad started experiencing heart trouble, his own brother had a severe heart attack that almost killed him at age 49. My dad had a hunch that something wasn’t right.
His symptoms continued on for another week so he visited his doctor again. The doctor assured him again that his symptoms were the result of pneumonia that my dad was having trouble getting rid of. So he continued to take his medicine like the doctor prescribed in hopes that these symptoms would cease. Another week passed and my still was not better. Another visit to the doctor confirmed that the pneumonia had cleared up but that the symptoms were the result of something else. My dad visited a heart specialist and he had an arteriogram, it was revealed that he had major blockages at his heart. His left main artery had a 95% blockage and one of the arteries on the backside of his heart had a 70% blockage. He was a heart attack waiting to happen. He was rushed into open heart surgery the next morning. After four hours in the operating room, he emerged with a good report that the blockages had been bypassed and he should make a full recovery in 6-8 weeks. We were relieved that he had escaped death.
Sometimes in life, it feels like God is asking an awful lot of you. At that moment it felt like God was asking more of me than I could handle. In just three short years, I lost both grandfathers and now my dad was clinging to life. It felt like God had put more on my plate to deal with than the average person. Life was becoming a struggle because every step seemed harder to take. In my heart I knew that God loved me but I started to question what the meaning of Matthew 11:28-30 was when Jesus says, “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” I wanted rest but it seemed like no matter how hard I tried to find it, something else happened to make me more weary. I went from being tired, to exhausted.
In January 2004, that is where my family and I found ourselves. When my dad was diagnosed with cancer, it was a punch to the gut. He had suffered enough and now the grand finale was going to deliver the knockout blow. Over the next week, I saw my dad slip away. We were told that doing chemo or radiation would never push his cancer into remission. It might prolong his life by a few days or weeks but at best he would be a vegetable during that time. The doctor felt the best way for my dad to spend his last few days would be at home with hospice care. I remember my dad lying in bed and every hour seemed like he was slipping further and further away. He eventually quit talking to us even though he was still alive. One of the hardest moments of my life was the evening of January 21st. My dad had developed what is known as the “death rattle” in which every breath he took, you could hear his lungs rattle due to the amount of fluid that had built up in them. I knew that it was only a matter of hours before he passed. My mom asked me if I wanted to have one last conversation with him before he died. I said that I did because I thought it would be easy, but I soon learned that it would be hard.
As I walked into that room, I was immediately overcome with emotion. I stood there next to my dad and I struggled to know what to talk to him about. I knew my dad’s body was shutting down because all he wanted to do was sleep. I knew that he could still hear me so I wanted to push ahead and tell him my thoughts. I just started sharing with him how thankful I was to have him as my dad. I thanked him for teaching me so much and helping me become a man. It was hard but I knew I needed to do it. Soon after I left that room, my dad passed away.
I’ve often wondered if that conversation, even as painful as it was, did more good than I could even imagine. There have been many times since that night that I wondered if I released my dad from his suffering and allowed him to experience joy. Did my conversation confirm to him that I was ready to be a man? To lead our family in his place? I’ll never know the answers but I do know that when he passed, I felt peace. A peace that I didn’t feel leading up to that moment. I felt like it prepared me to be there for my mom and sister as they grieved. It was a strange feeling for me but something happened that night in that room that changed me and my outlook. I went from feeling weary to feeling alive. I felt like I had a wind in my sails that I could carry on even though the circumstances around me seemed like my world should be falling apart.
Even though there are times when it feels like God is asking more of you than you can handle, he hasn’t left you stranded. One of my favorite quotes on dealing with adversity is something Andy Stanley said in one of his sermons a few years ago; “The presence of adversity does not equate to the absence of God.” I love that saying so much that I have posted it next to my work computer as a reminder that no matter what I may be face throughout the day, I’m not alone. Just because the situation I find myself in seems to be filled with adversity, I know God hasn’t left me to drown. He doesn’t want me to be overwhelmed but rather wants me to overcome. God asked an awful lot of his Son so that I can overcome. Because Jesus willingly went to the cross for me, “we have this hope as anchor for the soul, firm and secure,” (Hebrews 6:19).
reflections of a theologian 