Rest

I first met Rich at Fairfax Hospital this past August. Judi had told me that her neighbor, Rich, had recently been diagnosed with cancer and asked if I would visit him. God often opens doors of opportunity that we would not have foreseen. The door that swung open into Rich's life was one of those opportunities for me. I listened to Rich's story on that first visit and learned that he had recently been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. His outlook at that point was still hopeful and we talked about many things that day, including his relationship to the Lord and his desire to worship with us at Westwood. Unfortunately, Rich never got to fulfill that desire.

I have been introduced to folks many times through the years in the context of crisis. There can be a degree of awkwardness when you first meet someone and hear their story of struggle and uncertainty. "Who am I," I have sometimes wondered, "to be hearing the deeply felt and painfully personal details of one's rapidly progressing disease and broken dreams when I have only moments before, just met them?" The storms of life often create an environment where lifelines are grasped, even from unfamiliar sources.

Rich grabbed hold of that lifeline on that August day, and a relationship was established that brought us together a few times a week at first, then nearly every day over the the past two weeks. Rich was a gentle man whose graceful humor and welcoming smile cut through the heaviness of disease and terminal prognosis to trust that God would take care of him, no matter what the days ahead held for him. "God will walk with you," I assured him of his journey into the unknown. "I know he will," Rich would respond, and there was peace.

Rich passed away this evening, surrounded by his wife, Karen, and his two children, Charlie and Jessica. Rich knew that he was loved by a family that cherished him, by good friends who had stayed close by him, and by the God whose promise to be with him he clung to. He also knew of new friends who joined his life's journey late, but who sought to remind him of the promises of God that cannot be destroyed by disease and pain.

I have walked the pathway of death many times with people over the last twenty-eight years of ministry. Each journey has been unique, and yet, where the grace of God has preceded my steps, there has been strength each time to do what could not be done alone. "God is our refuge and strength; an ever present help in time of trouble," the Psalmist wrote, "therefore we will not be afraid."

I am grateful to Judi for introducing me to her friend and neighbor, Rich. I am grateful for the privilege of sharing the last steps of this life with him. But I am most grateful for the presence of the Eternal One who calls us, to burden-bearing ministry, where sharing the load with broken and hurting people marks us, perhaps as nothing else, as followers of the living Christ.

“Come to me, all you who are struggling hard and carrying heavy loads, and I will give you rest." (Matthew 11:28, CEB) May the promise of God's presence give us rest, and empower us to help shoulder the burdens of hurting people all around us.

Jim Abernathy