Faith Sees Best In The Dark

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 47^th 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.”