grace given me

This week, we lost a good one. My brother-in-law, Jim, passed away after an eight-year battle with cancer. He fought a good fight. I don’t say this as a platitude. His perseverance led those of us who witnessed his wrestle to find new levels of strength and commitment within ourselves. His journey led many of us deeper into faith as we watched miracle after miracle unfold, not only in the supernatural, but in the way he walked through the fire—with humility, courage, and grace. He loved and cared for his wife even while suffering. He treated his medical caregivers with genuine kindness. He showed up—again and again—for his kids, his extended family, and his friends. A man of big faith, he carried a heart like the Father’s: full of compassion, perspective, and gentleness, even in his own hardship. And he never stopped believing. Not in God. Not in others. Not in me.

I hold a special fondness for Jim because, for decades, he believed for me. My teen years were full of  rebellion, and my young adult life was ruled by self-indulgence. I couldn’t comprehend the faith my sister and Jim lived out. I misunderstood it—saw it as small, sentimental, restrictive. How wrong I was. Looking back, I realize I had a veil over my eyes. 2 Corinthians 3:14 explains, “But their minds were made dull, for to this day the same veil remains when the old covenant is read. It has not been removed, because only in Christ is it taken away.” I literally couldn’t see the truth. Can you imagine how many times I dismissed them? How I must have wounded them with my put-offs, my pride, my disbelief? Can you imagine the hurt and longing in their hearts for me to just see? I know many people reading this can relate. Still—they prayed. They never stopped believing.

To believe means “to accept something as true; to feel sure of the truth of it.” But how do you keep believing when hope seems to slip through your fingers—or vanish completely? You remember the truth and keep believing. Jesus said, “I am the way, the truth, and the life.” (John 14:6) Jesus is the Word made flesh. And when God wants to move, he does so through his Word. Get close to the Word—get close to Jesus. As you pray in the Word, things shift. Sometimes it takes a while. I’ve heard it said: Sometimes God takes a long time to move suddenly. And for reasons we won’t fully comprehend this side of heaven, sometimes our prayers are not answered here on earth. But we can trust that God always works for the good of those who love him.

I have been reading PUSH by Jurgen Matthesius and one passage really got me:

“When God saw a world that had gone awry, He planted the Word deep into it. Jesus is that Word that God sent into the world. Like a seed (Luke 8:11) He was planted in the earth, and adhering to the botanical processes of earth, He died, but rose again (or sprouted) and brought forth a harvest of sons and daughters.”

A harvest of people who just can’t stop believing—because they’ve been so radically transformed. They keep praying. They keep sowing. They keep believing that others will come to know the truth. Just like my sister and Jim did for me. And now, as I hope to do for others. Jesus prayed to the Father, “I have brought you glory on earth by completing the work you gave me to do.” (John 17:4) To my brother-in-law, Jim, I echo the words of our Savior: Well done, good and faithful servant. You fought the good fight. You finished the race. You kept the faith. Now wear your crown of righteousness, awarded to you by the Righteous Judge. I can see it in my mind’s eye—and I am filled with joy and pride, because I know you are beaming with the humility and awe of it all. Even now, you continue to build my faith. Thank you, Jim. Thank you for never stopping believing I could be saved.

Lord, you are the creator of all life. You give and you take away. We don’t always understand, but we believe you are who you say you are, so we trust. You say that when we accept Jesus as our Savior we are seated with him in heaven. We cannot understand time as you understand time. But you are not bound by time. Whether your servants are at rest or already risen, we rejoice knowing heaven is real. We know it is filled with joy, peace, new bodies, and perfect communion with you. How can death be so sad… and so hopeful? It is a mystery I will not try to unravel. I will just keep believing in you Lord. Amen.