The Fight Of Her Life - Joyfully Pressing On

The more your affections are set on Christ, your true husband … the easier it will be to take you out of the world. He who has laid up his heart in heaven, will think comfortably of laying down his head on earth. 

George Swinnock, The Fading of the Flesh and the Flourishing of Faith

Your grandma is ready to go home. 

Back in May, that day of the two bridal showers, the battle bugle sounded. And since then Grandma’s been in the fight of her life. Her final war with wince-making, nauseating, gut-wrenching pain. But her real war, and it’s not over yet, is not mainly against her great pain.

The fight would be a spiritual war against darkness and doubt and despair.

The Biggest War We’ll Ever Fight

Fight the good fight of the faith. Take hold of the eternal life to which you were called and about which you made the good confession in the presence of many witnesses. 

Paul, to Timothy in 1 Timothy 6:12

It’s the fight for faith. Grandma knew that way back in May. So when she got the word the cancer was inoperable and terminal her soldier prayers were two: Pray that I won’t despair and believe Satan’s lies. And pray that I will glorify God. 

The enemy did attack Grandma. The fiery darts came in dreadful, discouraging dreams at first. Nightmares of a heaven that is no heaven, and of horrific, not beatific reunions.

But Grandma fought back and honored her God. That is not how heaven will be. No-He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning nor crying nor pain anymore (Revelation 21:4). She wielded that sword of the Word with prayer.

Two weeks ago I posted about a quiet-time skirmish with the devil. I shared how I put on my shield of faith and put out some flaming darts; how I wielded my sword and resisted. Finally, he fled. Won and done for now, I said.

But the very next night was spent with Grandma. I watched a real warrior do battle that night. The maple floor under her hospital bed was holy ground.

When He Brings His Biggest Guns

At death, Satan will attack you with his biggest guns. When his time is short, his rage is greatest. This is his hour. When you, through pain of body and perplexity of mind, are least able to resist, then the devil will come with his fiercest assaults. 

George Swinnock, The Fading of the Flesh and the Flourishing of Faith

We’d like to think dying is graceful and painless. That fading into glory is easy and smooth. Maybe for a few it is. But I don’t think it’s the norm for a Christian. I don’t think so because Paul calls all of life, up to and including the end of life, a fight of faith. 

Never does he compare Christian life to a slide or ride or a gentle coast. It is effortful. Fight of faith, wrestle against powers,run the race. We strive until we die. Not to earn, but to display his glorious grace.

The worth of the cause is shown in how willing one is to suffer with joy for it. Ask gold-medal gymnast Simone Biles how many French fries she’s had in the last year. Or a pregnant mom happy to go on months of bedrest. Or a Grandma who smiles and gives grace in her dying days. It’s valiant her fight for faith and joy in Christ. Yes, Grandma, you are heaping glory to God.

Dying is not without fight. In fact, Grandma’s fight to date has been grueling. Like Lewis wrote, Pain hurts. Choking down anti-nausea pills and sometimes retching them back up hurts. Help me, dear Jesus, she moans gagging over her bucket. It’s spiritually grueling, too. The anxiety that gnaws like a fire and loneliness that spreads out like a desert,Lewis wrote.

We claim and embrace those stout words for ourselves. All good, provided we have at least a taste of the price Paul paid to say them. Two verses after I’ve fought the good fight, Paul describes how his friend Demas deserted him and other brothers left him. Luke alone is with me, he bemoaned.

Then, humble and vulnerable his request. When you come, bring the cloak I left, also the books, and above all the parchments (2 Timothy 4:10-13). Paul was in a cold prison cell (4:13), in chains (2:9) with no hope for earthly deliverance (4:6).

Best guess is that he wrote those good fight, triumphant words within a year of his martyrdom at Nero’s hands.

Stand Fast By That Book (AKA: Grandma Wields Her Sword)

And take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.

Paul, to the saints in Ephesus

Paul wanted his parchments. These are very possibly his copies of what are our Scriptures. Spurgeon urges us to learn from his last wish for his parchments,

You may go to human puddles, until you forsake the clear crystal stream which flows from the throne of God. Read the books, by all manner of means, but especially the parchments…Stand fast by that Book which is infallible, the revelation of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.

Grandma loves her books, too. Piles and piles still line her bedside. But one book, that Book, is the sole book that sits on the otherside caregiver’s chair. And after a restless night, up before the sun, Grandma was ready for that Book.

Is Romans 8 okay? I wondered.

She nodded. Holding her hand, I began,

There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. 

I squeezed Grandma’s right hand and pressed on,

For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us…

And then- miracle of miracles- the thick tongue whose muffled words I could barely understand moments ago, recited clear and strong,

Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or sword? 

Then by dawn’s early light, I witnessed another wonder I hope I never will forget. That frail hand I’d held and rubbed last night and nestled under the covers, that same hand was raised high. 

And beside me in her hospital bed, Grandma wielded her sword and finished the chapter with me.

For I am sure that neither death nor life…nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord. 

Not worth comparing. No condemnation. Nothing can separate.  Yes, yes, and-hallelujah!-yes. 

But Satan’s a wily guy.

Even The Strongest Saints Get Weary Hands

Your faith will not fail while God sustains it; you are not strong enough to fall away while God is resolved to hold you.

J.I. Packer, Knowing God

Let’s not miss the biggest source of strength. Be strong in the Lord and the strength of his might, Paul wrote. He rescued me from my strong enemy…for they were too mighty for me. For by you I can run against a troop, warrior king David wrote. And when Demas deserted, Paul wrote the Lord stood by me and strengthened me. 

But people help too. Saints help saints stay strong and fight. There ought to be comaraderie in our kingdom fights. Paul strengthened the souls of the disciples, encouraging them to continue in the faith, saying that through many tribulations we must enter the kingdom of God. When David was alone and weak, his friend Jonathan went and strengthened his hand in the Lord.

Sometimes it’s more than emotional support we need. Remember Israel’s first battle out of Egypt? Pesky Amalekites attacked them from the back.

So Moses said to Joshua, “Choose for us men, and go out and fight with Amalek. Tomorrow I will stand on the top of the hill with the staff of God in my hand.” So Joshua did as Moses told him, and fought with Amalek, while Moses, Aaron, and Hur went up to the top of the hill. Whenever Moses held up his hand, Israel prevailed, and whenever he lowered his hand, Amalek prevailed. But Moses’ hands grew weary, so they took a stone and put it under him, and he sat on it, while Aaron and Hur held up his hands, one on one side, and the other on the other side. So his hands were steady until the going down of the sun. And Joshua overwhelmed Amalek and his people with the sword. (Exodus 17:8-13)

The whole course of the Israelite cause would be determined by Moses’ strong, upheld hands. But even Moses’ hands grew weary. So Aaron and Hur, his right and left hand men, held up Moses’ weary hands. And his hands were steady until the going down of the sun. 

Everyone of us needs help holding up our hands. Especially as the sun goes down. I was blessed that night, in my little Romans 8 way, to get to help hold Grandma’s hands. Together we wielded the sword of the Word and held her shield of faith. Because even the most faithful of saints, Moses and David and Paul and Grandma, need someone to hold and strengthen their hands.

Those two little miracles happened two visits ago. This Sunday when our family dropped by, Grandma said, I’m not alwaysstrong. Then she looked to the wall and explained, My chart. 

Sunday, August 21st was on top of Grandma’s chart. The five who- ala Aaron and Hur- would hold up Grandma’s hands were listed. That day it was Laurie and Patty, Tom and Mark and John. Other days and nights it’s Judy and Steve or Nathan and Rachel or Joy and the kids who help her fight.

Even the most faithful of saints, Moses and David and Paul and Grandma, sometimes need someone to strengthen and hold their hands.

*   *   *   *   *

For people who speak thus make it clear that they are seeking a homeland…

But as it is they desire a better country, that is, a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared for them a city.

Hebrews 11:14, 16