April 3, 1988, Easter Sunday. My dad died. He had fought a three year battle with cancer, and it ravaged his body until he was barely recognizable as the father i had known all my life. But the last thing i said to him was, "surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and i will dwell in the house of the Lord forever". He had called me to his side, as he lay there, struggling to breathe, old blood trickling out of his mouth, as his organs liquified inside of his cancer-ridden body. His eyes pleaded with me for some shred of comfort. As i began to recite, he closed his eyes, and his breathing evened out, and he rested. That was the last i saw him, the ambulance attendants came and lifted his body using the sheet he was lying on, to pick him up and carry him to the waiting ambulance. As they picked up the sheet, he reached out for my hand, as if to say, 'no, don't let them do this to me', and my heart broke, as i had to let them take him to the hospital. Mom had nursed him for three years, day and night, but now, with the breakdown of the organs, and the blood oozing constantly from his nose and mouth, she asked the home health nurse how long this could continue. "I've seen it last a week or so," Linda said. Mom felt overwhelmed, and scared. I couldn't blame her, she had been through so much. So they put the call in for the ambulance to come and pick dad up and take him to the hospital, where he would be taken care of. My oldest sister, Lynda, was in the hospital at the time, having a wound dehiscence after a C-section delivery of her daughter, Jaclyn. She got to say good-bye to dad before he died. The whole family was at the bedside, except for my family. Dad had restricted visitors to only daughters and husbands, but wished only mom to be at his side. As people draw near to death, they withdraw from people around them, sometimes not even allowing their spouse around unless absolutely necessary, as it was in this case. So i had respected that, although it cost me emotionally not to be able to be there. I felt i had let him down by allowing the EMTs to take him in, although that decision was never mine to make. And so he died, Easter Sunday, 22 years ago, tomorrow. I miss him.
There was another who was unrecognizable as he died. Jesus was beaten beyond recognition as the religious furor demanded he be crucified. The religious leaders were offended by his acceptance and love for sinners, the pharisees were offended by his disregard for their righteous law, and many common people of his day were offended that he didn't come as a conquering warrior, to mete justice on the ruling Romans. They didn't recognize him as a servant, who came to be the least of these. They didn't recognize him as the lover of our souls, who gave his life in our place. To provide that perfect sacrifice for our sins, that we might be freed from the law of sin and death forever, simply by accepting the propitiation. The blood that covers the awful sin as we thrust our wills in the face of God, demanding our rights, our comfort, our leisure.
Take some time to reflect on the price Jesus paid for us. He redeemed us, bought us, with his very life. Maybe it's time to say thank you, and accept his gift. He will answer if you ask in sincerity..the heart that is truly seeking will find, when you seek for him with all your heart.
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