The Hope of God Will Hold You

In August, my brother Steve took his final breath this side of heaven. He was surrounded by the love of his family and of others who have walked closely through the devastation of Parkinson’s Disease. The cruelty of PD is the slow erosion of the physical abilities we need in order to participate in life, from tremors in the hands to the eventual inability to walk. Eating and talking become difficult. By the time cancer invaded my brother’s body, his ability to fight it had been all but destroyed.

As pain filled his final days, sleeping became commonplace, and his breathing became labored. When we got word that he had found peace, I felt a ripping pain and a sense of calm at the same time. Amid everything there was joy. A quiet, beautiful joy knowing that my brother is no longer in pain. The knowledge that he is face to face with his Savior is reason for hope.

Steve was an avid reader. He soaked up the classics as well as comic books and novels. He was a sponge for sports statistics and followed the family direction when it came to college football. Our father played for UCLA seventy years ago, so it was in our blood. We were raised as Bruins fans, and Steve’s commitment to them was just another symbol of his loyalty.

His pledge to follow Jesus all the days of his life never fell away. He may have wavered; he may have had questions, but he never walked away from his faith. He may have drifted at times, but he never wandered far from home. He knew the God of hope was holding him through every twist and turn. When it was time, he faced his earthly death without reservation.

It’s difficult to imagine what we would do in circumstances we’ve never faced, even when we’ve watched a loved one go through them. In the fall of 2019, I was diagnosed with breast cancer. I spent many days feeling every appropriate emotion and hoping to find words to express what I was thinking. There are times when nothing makes sense, though, and this journey left me with an inability to find meaning. It’s not uncommon to look for a reason during seasons of pain or tragedy. But knowing all the “whys” wouldn’t have helped. I just needed to know there was hope.

God is faithful. He created the entire human population, which includes me. He knows the intricacies of how everything works as well as those places where lifestyle and environment take a toll. It made sense to trust him with the bad news, as well as the good. It doesn’t make things go my way; it just helps me go his way.

Even before we even suspected anything was wrong, the word trust seemed to pick me for 2020. I had no idea I would need to tap into it early, but there it was. It encompassed my thoughts before worry could set in and cause anxiety. As Paul tells us in Philippians 4:6, “Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.” (NIV). I’ve heard many well-meaning folks pull these words out to quell someone’s worry like a quick fix and a pat on the head.

Over the past few years, though, I’ve been able to see the context of Paul’s admonition. He was saying that conversation with the Creator of the universe brings peace and focus. Trust comes from knowing that no matter how hard our trials become, we have a God who sees it all and can bring us peace when it doesn’t make sense. That’s the beauty of it; we don’t have to make sense of things in order to trust the one who loves us completely.

As I began to take the steps needed to fight the cancer, I found that renewing my mind was the key to keeping up my strength. Focusing on what was in front of me instead of all the possibilities left me with the strength to handle hard news as well as comforting news. To experience and face the whole journey with a sense of calm brought its own sense of relief. Anyone who is tired knows that strength is hard to find in those moments.

I’ll keep looking for examples like Steve, who kept his faith when his body slowly failed. His sense of humor lingered because his trust continued to grow deeper. The unsteadiness of his legs caused him to fall hard and often. But all the while, he planted his spiritual feet on a firm foundation.

This has been a hard year for so many reasons. I wonder how many times the words, “I didn’t see that coming,” have passed our lips. One thing I have learned is to trust even more deeply in Jesus, the One who walked through more than I can imagine. He keeps his promises, which has been a safe foundation upon which to build my faith. I know he’ll catch me if I fall.

Jemelene Wilson is a passionate storyteller who writes of faith, hope, love, and food. She’s madly in love with her pastor husband and mama bear to two daughters. Grace is a fairly new concept she is exploring with her life and words. Mama Jem believes we should live gently and love passionately. You can find more of her writing at jemelene.com.

Photograph © Scott Warman, used with permission