Bishop
Turning at his voice, I watched the lines in his face grow slightly tense, his eyes started blinking more rapidly and a single tear flowed down his left cheek. His tone was quiet and deliberate. His affect: a forced calm. His voice sounded with the substance of a thousand battles as he told his story. The voice I’ve heard a lot over the last 13 or so years. The life I’ve witnessed. If a stranger were speaking, these words might sound trite, superficial, a way to soften the blow of grim news. Buck up, chap, everything will be ok. However, in the context of his life, his word is solid and “trite” doesn’t enter the mind.
I thought of his life as he spoke. What must he be going through having lost his mother at six, his dad at 36? What must be triggering now? I can’t even imagine the internal suffering he is experiencing. He talked of the tumor clamped onto his wife’s optic nerve and the one growing on the backside of her brain. He’s been here before. He has looked death in the face. He’s experienced this knot in his stomach. And he has turned his ear toward the Lord and has felt faith rise in his heart. He has spoken faith where no one had any. Substance and expectation based on the Word of the Lord, not a presumption on that word.
He didn’t talk of death but of possible blindness. I could barely imagine the conversation that he and his wife had with that team of doctors. I know what it’s like to tell the professionals, “I have all the information I can handle for now, thank you” as they would pour on more.
But. They stepped back. Dialed down. Listened to the Lord and spoke the truth of the situation as Father sees it. “You will make known to me the path of life.” Ps. 16:11
What touches me about this is that he lives his life by faith -- everything by faith. He takes his blows and with the wind knocked out of him believes in the Lord. I don’t think I can convey that in more simplistic terms. Whatever comes, he has the confidence that Father will be there and give him what he needs to deal with it. This is Bishop--a pattern of faith.
I thought of his life as he spoke. What must he be going through having lost his mother at six, his dad at 36? What must be triggering now? I can’t even imagine the internal suffering he is experiencing. He talked of the tumor clamped onto his wife’s optic nerve and the one growing on the backside of her brain. He’s been here before. He has looked death in the face. He’s experienced this knot in his stomach. And he has turned his ear toward the Lord and has felt faith rise in his heart. He has spoken faith where no one had any. Substance and expectation based on the Word of the Lord, not a presumption on that word.
He didn’t talk of death but of possible blindness. I could barely imagine the conversation that he and his wife had with that team of doctors. I know what it’s like to tell the professionals, “I have all the information I can handle for now, thank you” as they would pour on more.
But. They stepped back. Dialed down. Listened to the Lord and spoke the truth of the situation as Father sees it. “You will make known to me the path of life.” Ps. 16:11
What touches me about this is that he lives his life by faith -- everything by faith. He takes his blows and with the wind knocked out of him believes in the Lord. I don’t think I can convey that in more simplistic terms. Whatever comes, he has the confidence that Father will be there and give him what he needs to deal with it. This is Bishop--a pattern of faith.
posted by brent at 11:35 AM
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