The cold rain and wind last Saturday morning was a fitting
milieu for our sad journey. My wife
Joyce and I were on the way to Kinston, NC to bury our nephew who was only 47,
far too young to end his earthly pilgrimage.
William
Dillahunt, Jr. was more like a son than a nephew to Joyce as he lived next door
and only 2 ½ weeks separated him and our daughter, Lynn. They were like brother and sister. He loved
outdoor sports. In fact, he loved
hunting and fishing so much we didn’t think he would ever marry. “Don’t have time,” he would say.
But five years
ago we attended his wedding as he stood before the love of his life, Susan, and
together they pledged to love and to cherish each other “for better or worse,
richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, till death do us part.” It was such a happy occasion that we never
stopped to think that sickness and death would soon be knocking at their door.
At first we heard
he had Lyme’s Disease, but the doctors weren’t certain. Finally, the terrible news was
confirmed. William Jr. had cancer. His family, friends, and church family
quickly rallied around him. Social media
spread his story and soon thousands of people were praying for him. He faced his illness with courage and faith. “I’m going to lick this thing,” he said.
His 47th
birthday was in January and we traveled to his church in Kinston for a surprise
party. The fellowship hall was
overflowing with people who loved and were inspired by William Jr. He was totally surprised and overwhelmed by
the response. Even as he thanked people
for coming he expressed his faith and hope in conquering his cancer. “My God is bigger than this cancer,” he would
say.
He experienced a
brief remission and we rejoiced that our prayers were being answered. He shared his testimony in church. Maybe the chemo was working, we thought. But it wasn’t. The cancer returned with a vengeance. It was only a matter of time.
Two weeks before
his death Joyce and I drove to Greenville to see him. He was having a good day. Joyce brought him a Halloween pumpkin filled
with candy and he was as excited as a ten-year old. We all knew that he wouldn’t be with us much
longer, but as we talked, he shared that while he didn’t understand why this had
happened to him, he knew that God was using him to be a witness. God had a plan that William Jr. didn’t
understand, but rather than being angry and bitter, he put his faith and trust
in that mysterious plan that we will only understand better “bye and bye.”
The last few days
were most difficult. Like Christian who
enters the waters of death in Pilgrim’s Progress, William Jr. was sinking in
the deep waters. On Tuesday of last week
most of his family was able to see him one last time. We prayed with him and said our
good-byes. In the middle of the night
the Angels came and William Jr. left this world of suffering and pain
behind. As Christian sank in the waters, Hopeful
called out, “Be of good cheer my brother, I feel the bottom and it is
good.” Death was not our enemy that
night, but a friend.
His funeral was a
celebration of his rich life. I shared that I had never seen a young man with any more courage and
determination. He faced his illness and
death with dignity, grace, faith, and hope.
He knew that death was not the final answer.
My old seminary
professor shared these words at his young son’s funeral: “The love of God is broader than the measure
of men’s minds. We cannot get over our
sorrow, but we can get into it; and, when we do, we see the face of one full of
sorrows and acquainted with grief, who understands us and undergirds us with
the love of God. When human wisdom
cannot see a hand’s breadth before it in the dark night of suffering, then
faith can see God, for faith sees best in the dark.”
