I often empathize with Job. He was a good guy. He loved God and yet found himself the target of Satan’s hate. Recently, my empathy has turned into full-blown grief as I watch my beloved stepfather, prepare to leave this world.

My mother married a wonderful man three years ago. Both had suffered tremendous abuse in their previous marriages. God has blessed them with a beautiful union. Never has there been a greater example of Christ’s love to the church than with these two people. Every time I am with them I learn how I want to be in my own marriage. The core of their love is deeply rooted in Christ’s message: to love each other above oneself.

Time was a factor for them from the beginning. My step dad says things like, “What person would willingly love and choose to marry someone full of cancer? Oh, I know, my angel.”  They have chosen not to waste a minute.

As my step dad’s illness grows progressively worse, he has become more and more grateful, praising God for all the time he has with my mom. He has this ability to just let the past go and completely surrender. All the while, he is in extreme, debilitating, take-your-breath-away pain. Yet, he is praise-fully happy to be alive.

I suppose it is at that level of pain that we are broken of our selfish thinking, our regret, our anger. When we experience that level of anguish, we have to make the choice to surrender and fully accept it.

Seeing someone you love slowly prepare to leave this physical world is one of the most unusual things to witness. It has to be both excruciating to watch and radiant with God’s grace. It is sad to hear him talk about the end but magnificent to hear him talk about his future and to hear him share about life, people, his choices, and his acceptance. To fully own his life and fully surrender it all at once is a lesson I take with me daily.

Sometimes I want to feel sorry for people like Job or like my mom and step dad. It’s easy to do. Job was in God’s favor, a loyal servant, but he was heavily afflicted and seemed to be punished. But in the midst of it all, Job stayed faithful and never once took the Lord’s name in vain. God blessed Job for his faithfulness.

Job’s story gives me hope. When I see those around me or find myself among the afflicted, He promises to remain faithful. He asks only that we find a way to stay faithful also.

My mom has shared a lot of her experience, and she admits her anger at times with God. But she also shared that when she came to the point of complete despair, she was embraced with open arms by Christ. When she was bent and broken enough to ask for help, Jesus was waiting to save her. It was in those moments that she felt covered in perfect peace, like being washed by the purest water. She immediately knew that she was in His protection and love and that He was going to take care of it all.

God has made enormous statements that proclaim victories found only in His son Christ Jesus. He has promised to make all things new, all things right, and all things good. He will wipe every tear, right every wrong, and fulfill every promise! He did with Job and He will again for all of us.

I heard someone recently put it perfectly: “What a high honor and such high esteem you must find yourself in if God has entrusted so much pain to you. Count yourself blessed to be given such a responsibility.”

My mother has written accounts of her experiences with her dying husband. Some are journal entries, some are poems, most are prayers. She has given me permission to share a very intimate poem that describes her days with her beloved man. She hopes it will help all who find themselves among the afflicted.

I am where I want to be.

My life is full of life. My life is full of death.

I am swept away by grief. Joy lifts me off my feet.

Sometimes I am alone. I am never alone.

I am where I want to be.

My eyes cannot bear to see the frailty of the body.

My nose senses disease and decay.

My hands caress and feel the bones.

I am where I want to be.

My former life is gone.

Today my lover needs my care.

I hold his hand. I stand by.

The days are long. The days are short.

Then I kiss his mouth; oh, it tastes so sweet.

I watch him sleep.

I am where I want to be.

                                                           ~Michelle Vickers

Sarah Apa