Miracles And My Father's Death

I haven't posted for several weeks. In early August, my father was diagnosed with cancer and was given weeks to live. The diagnosis and prognosis were startling. The symptoms leading up to his diagnosis didn't suggest cancer, much less cancer in such an advanced stage. Earlier this year, I had thought my father could easily live another decade, maybe two decades or more. He was only in his sixties, and he hadn't even retired yet. He died on September 19.

When I left in August, I was in the middle of a series of posts about Craig Keener's recent book on miracles. (For those not familiar with the series, you can read my introduction to it here.) I'm continuing with that series, and I've decided to include this post about my father as part of it. I'm doing so for a few reasons. For one thing, healings often don't occur when we want them to, and that subject is worth considering in a discussion of miracles. Secondly, my father's case does involve some miracles, even though he wasn't healed of his cancer. Third, I still intend to post an index to this series when I'm finished with it. If this post is included in that index, then the post should get more readers than it would in isolation. I love my father. I want his story to get a wider audience.

Shortly after my Dad's death, a cousin (who's significantly older than me) wrote the following to me in an email about my father:

We were not that far apart in years and I think of him more as a brother than an uncle….

I remember fondly many good times with John.  One of my memories is the time he took me along to one of his softball games.  I must have been about 8 or 9, and John about 15 or16.  When John came up to bat the coach of the opposing team motioned to his outfielders and told them to move back because John was up.  That is the way I like to think of John - standing tall and commanding respect.  But even more than that, throughout the years, over the long haul, I remember him  as one who was exceedingly generous, to me and to everyone.  Stand back people, John is up!  I dearly miss him.

My cousin mentioned that my father was generous. He was, and he was cheerful, faithful, and had many other good attributes. When he died, he had been married to my mother for 42 years, never separated or divorced. He provided my brother and me with a large, stable, peaceful, and happy home to grow up in and return to in later years. There are so many good memories of experiences together, conversations, holidays, gifts, vacations, and so much else. Dad was a successful businessman. He eventually started his own small business, which was successful as well. His viewing and funeral were attended by a lot of people and with a lot of sadness and tears.

I've invested much of my life in apologetics. It's something I care deeply about. Much of the work we do on this blog is of an apologetic nature. I've said a lot about the importance of apologetics in the past (like here), and I won't repeat myself at this point. But I want to say some things about my indebtedness to my Dad in this context.

Dad gave me a home to grow up in and an education. He provided me with money for books and other resources and taught me how to use a computer, which is so valuable in many contexts, including apologetics. Much of what I know about computers and a lot of the computer-related help I've received over the years (repair work, etc.) came from Dad. I have a lot of memories of spending time in my parents' home reading books, staying up late at night to study some issue or another, or writing apologetic material on one of the computers, for example. He often encouraged me in my apologetic work. When Steve Hays and I published our e-book, The End Of Infidelity, earlier this year, the first response I got was an encouraging email from my father early that morning. On other occasions, he offered financial help if I wanted it, to return to school or publish a book, for example. If you've benefited from my apologetic work over the years, you're indebted to my father.

Some of you know that one of my primary interests is Christmas apologetics. (See here for an overview of my Christmas material, and see here for a recent update to it.) One of the factors that motivated me to take up that area of apologetics was a series of media stories criticizing the Biblical accounts of Jesus' birth during the Christmas season of 2004, accompanied by the lack of a significant Christian response. I've been doing a lot of work on Christmas issues since then. But another factor that's always been in the background is how Christmas was celebrated in the home I grew up in. It was always celebrated as a major holiday, with decorations, music, food, a lot of gifts, and visiting with relatives. Many of my happiest memories are from the Christmas season. One of the reasons why I've been so concerned about Christmas issues over the years is that I came from a home that encouraged it.

I could say a lot more about my father, but I want to move on to address something I haven't mentioned yet. Dad wasn't a Christian.

Because he wasn't a Christian, his cancer diagnosis created two difficult situations simultaneously. While he was being cared for physically, some of us were trying to lead him to Christ. He did eventually become a Christian. I was able to explain the gospel to him many times, discuss apologetic issues with him, work through his doubts with him, read scripture to him, and pray with him, among other things. A passage of scripture that was especially important to him was 1 Peter 1:3-5, apparently because of what it communicates about the gracious and secure nature of salvation. He asked me to write a prayer for him based on that passage, which I did. These are some of the most treasured experiences of my life. He finished well.

My grandfather and others desired and labored for my Dad's salvation for many years. (I still attend the church I went to with my grandfather when he was alive. When I was at church yesterday, a man who used to sit next to my grandfather stopped me while I was walking by, to talk to me about my father's death. He mentioned that he had prayed for my Dad's salvation, apparently because my grandfather asked him to. That would have been more than 15 years ago, maybe even 20 years ago or more. Those prayers were answered, though it took a long time.) I've been thinking a lot about how the day of my Dad's arrival in Heaven was a happy day not only for him, but also for my grandfather and others who would meet him there.

When my grandfather died in 1996, his death had a significant maturing effect on me. I want the same to be true of my father's death. I may not see him again for something like 50 or 60 years. I want to use that time well.

I would not with swift wingèd zeal
On the world’s errands go,
And labor up the heavenly hill
With weary feet and slow.

God’s providence was evident many times and in many ways during the events following my father's diagnosis. There’s too much to dismiss all of it as coincidental. Some of what occurred is highly likely to have been supernatural. I wasn't expecting these things to happen, but I noticed a pattern early on, and it was a source of a lot of comfort, encouragement, and joy during a difficult time.

I have a lot to be grateful for. Cancer is a terrible illness. There was a lot of sadness during the closing months of my father's life, and I miss my Dad. But there have been blessings that weigh a lot more. God is the fountain of living waters (Jeremiah 2:13), whose riches are unfathomable (Ephesians 3:8), in whom are hidden all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge (Colossians 2:3). "Thy best, thy heavenly friend through thorny ways leads to a joyful end."

Deep in unfathomable mines
Of never failing skill
He treasures up His bright designs
And works His sovereign will.

Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take;
The clouds ye so much dread
Are big with mercy and shall break
In blessings on your head.

His purposes will ripen fast,
Unfolding every hour;
The bud may have a bitter taste,
But sweet will be the flower.