But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, my power is made perfect in weakness. (II Corinthians 12:9, NIV)

FINISHED

The day was finally over. I leaned back in my second-hand rocking chair and closed my eyes, struggling to quiet my nerves. I’d been running on adrenalin for the last six days, doing everything that needed to be done for my husband and our children, having no time to sort through my own emotions. I thought of the boxes and bundles in the dining room, all things I would need to sort through and take care of; of my two older children who had just gone back to their homes with their partners; and of Allen, my autistic adult son, who had thrown his tie and suit jacket on the coach a few moments ago. I’d heard the door to his room slam; the sounds reverberated through our little brick house. 

Keeping my eyes closed, I slid from my rocking chair and touched my knees to the laminate floor–so much better for wheelchairs and walkers than carpeting-and let the tears–so carefully controlled for six days–flow down my face. 

“Thank you, Lord,” I prayed. “Thank you that it is finally finished. Thank you that Ron is finally healed.”

I would need to become accustomed to seeing the empty lift chair on the other side of the room, the one Allen and I had struggled to bring home from a sale in Kennet Square just a few months ago, but my heart would be full.

 After more than two decades of illnesses, my husband had been called Home.

ASKING

During the years when we were, more often than not, inhabiting some room at some hospital in the tri-county area, my thoughts would often stray to the Apostle Paul as I waited out surgery or a test. While no one is really sure what the problem was, it is made clear in the Book of Second Corinthians that Paul prayed three times for a physical affliction to be removed from him. And God had his reasons for saying “No”. 

In addition to this burden, Paul had been beaten, flogged, left for dead, thrown into a filthy prison cell with rats and mice, and confined in chains. Some of Paul’s physical features have been part of a story Titus told Onesiphorus that Paul was, “small in size, bald-headed, bow-legged, well built, with eyebrows that met, rather long-nosed and full of grace.” Add to his unimposing figure the scars and scabs of his mistreatment, emaciation from prison scraps, and head injury. Not what one might suppose the impressive Apostle looked like.

But he was full of grace. When God said, “No. Sorry, buddy, no healing for you,” Paul’s response was not anger but acceptance. Without physical features worthy of boast, Paul replied, “Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me” (II Corinthians 12:9). If God had healed Paul, would he have been as effective in the early church? Would he have gone on the Apostolic missions to Cyprus, Syria, Cilicia, and Arabia?  Paul trusted that God knew best.

TRUST

We had that trust as well. Through the many, many years of my husband’s illnesses, myself, my children, my friends, and my church continually prayed for Ron’s healing. We knew it was within God’s power to take away both the physical and mental maladies that assaulted him. We knew it; we believed it; we waited for it to happen.

And while we waited for a miracle, we “let the power of Christ” rest on us. We filled each hospital room with hymns and cards from my school students. We prayed for the medical staff that entered the room. We reached out to both patients and families in waiting rooms. We comforted those who lost someone; we rejoiced with those who left the hospital well again. We knew God heard us (I John 5:14).

Joni Eareckson Tada, a quadriplegic since her diving accident in 1967, stated in interviews that she often felt God, by not healing her, had deserted her. But she came to discover that God had a greater purpose for her life. Joni said, “God may remove your suffering, and that will be a great cause for praise. But if not, He will use it, He will use anything and everything that stands in the way of His fellowship with you. So let God mold you and make you, transform you from glory to glory. That’s the deeper healing”(Interview with Marvin Olasky, 2013).

YES

I rose from the floor and crossed over to the maroon lift chair where, six days ago, Ron had fallen asleep and awakened in Heaven. I touched it lightly, remembering: the mother of a chronically ill daughter with whom I prayed during ketamine treatments; the heart patient my daughter and I had met at Temple Hospital who left our presence to go home and call her estranged son; the grieving widower who accepted Jesus in the waiting room at Riddle Hospital, knowing he would see his wife again in Glory.

Would these people have heard the Gospel if Ron had been healed? Would Paul have gone on the mission trips if he had been a handsome and physically fit man? Would Joni have had a worldwide impact on others if God had cured her?

I settled into Ron’s chair, sensing my husband’s presence. Moving on without him would not be easy, but I knew his life had not been in vain.

God’s “no” had resulted in many saying “yes” to Jesus. 

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Quirky: Because we’re all a little different