“We are hard-pressed on every side, yet not
crushed; we are perplexed, but
not in despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed - always carrying about in the body the dying of the Lord Jesus, that the life of Jesus also may be manifested in our body." - 2 Corinthians 4:8-10
I looked out of the window and was
admiring the serenity of the dawn, silently thanking God for another day. It
had been almost a week since we’d slept peacefully. I still remember the day
I’d come back from college, wanting to see my dad. He had not been keeping well
for a few months, and was later diagnosed with lung cancer. The doctors had
said that he was in the last stage and there was nothing they could do. I didn’t
know how to react, but my mother was so strong, and she had this undying faith
in God. She told me that my father will be fine, because we serve a Living God,
a God who sees our tears, who hears our cry. She knew that He would heal him.
I turned to look at him. He had been
crying in pain throughout the night, until the nurse gave him some sedatives,
which would wear off after sometime. He had finally fallen asleep in the
morning because of the high dosage. I did not want to believe that it was my
dad lying there on the bed, with all the tubes and bottles of glucose supporting
his life. Each time he winced in pain, I would run to him to see if I could
help him in some way. How could I see the man who taught me to live my life, my
father who loved me so much writhing with pain? I wish I could take away this pain,
and I knew that God who is my Father was capable of doing it. I just had to
ask.
I couldn’t question God and I didn’t want to
question Him because I knew that everything was working according to His plan.
I could not remember having a time in my life without any pain or troubles. At
each and every juncture of my life I had to face problems. Every time a problem
used to come and hit me like a wave, and I used to hold on to God and get back
up. My brother was so young and I just wanted to protect him from every evil thing
that was happening around us. I still wish he could’ve had a better childhood.
But when I look back I believe that all those problems were preparing us for a
day like this, preparing my younger brother to take up the responsibility of a
man though he was only fifteen years old.
I had always loved God more, more than anyone
else. I was always conscious of His presence. I knew that my Jesus is a jealous
God and He would never want me to give importance to anything or anyone else
other than Him. He had always been my first priority, and I knew that I would
follow Him, even if I had to let go of everything I love, because nothing means
more to me than being accepted by Him. My mother, a woman of God, was praying
ceaselessly, and praising God. I’ve heard people say that it’s difficult to
praise God when you’re going through low times in life, but she made it seem so
easy. Even in the hospital she didn’t hesitate to share the gospel with people
who did not know Him. She proclaimed that God is our Eternal Father, the one
who saves. I could see God moving when my dad came out of the critical
condition.
When I saw him sleeping peacefully
on his bed I thanked God for the way He helped us to get him to the hospital. I’d
just returned from college and was about to lie down when I heard my mother
screaming. I ran to their room and my dad lying down unconscious in a pool of
blood. For a minute I thought that I’d lost him. We took him to the hospital
and I asked all my friends to pray for him. The doctors asked us to inform all
our relatives and friends and told us that he could lose his life anytime. I
prayed, that was more than enough, I knew. It was one week since that day. We
were with him in the hospital. He was alive and still breathing, a miracle. My
father was a Christian, but he didn’t have a relationship with God. In the past
one week I saw him worshipping God. I saw him praying and talking to Him. We
worshipped Him together as a family and that was the most blessed week.
I had my project review on 26th
April, so I left for college on 23rd. I reached the hostel and met
all my friends. Everyone asked me about my dad and I shared how it was to see
my dad being healed by God. In some way I felt God is going to use me and that
was the reason why I was going through all this, and each time I shared about
my dad I was being comforted and had all the more faith that my dad will be
healed.
I would never forget that night. My
friend came and knocked on my door and told me that my dad was no more. I cried
but quickly composed myself and praised God. I thanked God for the last one
week in which He spoke to him and brought him closer to Him. I thanked Him because
I knew that he will be with God. We packed at 2:30 in the morning and quickly
left. I didn’t speak much in the train but I was just thinking of my dad. I saw
my mother at home and my brother. He was waiting to talk to me. He hadn’t cried
till he saw me. I tried telling him that God had a plan. My heart broke when he
asked whether God won’t raise him from the dead. All my friends were there for
me. I told my mother that I wanted to see my father. I hadn’t had enough of the
time I spent with him. She told me one thing. She said that God has asked us to
leave the things of the world and take up our cross and follow Him. I couldn’t
help but miss my dad, but I was constantly being reminded that He was with God
and that was a comfort to me. When I saw his lifeless body in the funeral the
next day I realized that I wasn’t prepared for this, but somehow God didn’t let
me feel the pain, the loss. I didn’t cry and neither did my mother. It was God
who strengthened us and made us strong, I knew it. I wanted to be there for my
little brother. I prayed that God would speak to him.
I believe God will use me and my
family. We can’t comprehend His thoughts and plans. Throughout my life God
broke me into pieces and brought me back together and made me in His own image.
I know that I love God more than anyone else, and that love will never cease
because I know that His love never fails.
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