Breaking a Heart of Stone part 2
Aggressive Stage III Non-Hodgkinís Lymphoma.
Well, after hospitalization and treatments, Will was done. Not done because the doctor ended treatments, done because el-stubborn-o, was tired of it and just wanted to be with his son. He began to drink more, and go to church with us less. My husband and I tried to talk him about the Lord, and would tell him the only way he could ever see his son again would be through acceptance of Jesus Christ as his Lord and Savior. That darned bitterness was tougher than we thought, but not near as tough as his stubbornness!
You know he went almost a whole year completely healthy, until this Thanksgiving. The tumors came back, and they were mad, he had them at the base of his head, on the back of one eye, under his arms, you name it. It didnít look good, I called the Pastor (Will called him Padre) I asked him to come anoint Will with oil, pray with him, and try break open that heart of stone. Before the Pastor got there, I told Will that Padre would be coming over to see him, to anoint him with healing oils and pray for healing. (I left out the part where I was basically begging the Pastor to save this guy!) When Padre, got to the house, he walked into Willís bedroom, they small talked, and then Will uttered the most beautiful words of his life, ďPray with me Padre.Ē He was ready. Finally after all those years of anger and bitterness, he was ready to give his life to the One who gave it to him.
It was about a month later, it happened so fast. I took him to the hospital on Tuesday, His daughter and ex-wife flew in that night and his oldest brother got in Wednesday morning. His wishes were to be at home, so he came home in a non-emergency ambulance on Friday morning. Shortly after he came home, his younger brother arrived. Will looked up and uttered his first coherent words in the last two days, ďYou made it, youíre here.Ē He talked with his brothers for a little bit, and fell back asleep. A couple hours later it was time.
God opened the eyes of my heart and let me see what was going on, as I held Willís hand sobbing, God opened my eyes. His death was so beautiful, he must have seen the Lord Himself coming for him, because he was literally in Awe, the way a newborn baby is when it sees something the rest of us donít. My tears changed from those of sadness and pain, to tears of absolute wonderment and delight. Our God, the God that I now got to share with Will, had come to free His beloved from pain.
God doesnít care that it took Will nearly his entire life before he came and laid his life down on the Altar and accepted the gift of Salvation through Christ. He just cares that Will did it. God knew when the rest of us didnít that Will would hand Him his life, and He sat back a waited patiently for His lost son to come home. Isnít it beautiful that once Will came home to the love of the Lord, it wasnít long before He came and took Willís spirit by the hand, and led him home.
Freedom for a Patriot is the poem I wrote for Wills funeral.
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