No Sting, No Victory

This week can go on record as one of the hardest in my life.  Our dearest friend, Fletcher, who I wrote about in my blog in February is lying in a hospital bed, in the den of his home looking out across the lake.  He is dying.  His body has become emaciated like those who were released from concentration camps after the war.  His skin is yellow and his hands are cold.  Disease is ravaging his body, but his beautiful, brilliant mind is still there healthy and whole.  He can quote scripture, poetry, and lines from his favorite hymns.  What a blessing it is to sit in his presence!  What a beautiful testimony he is to the love of God!

The older son, Pat, has cared for his dad daily for weeks now.  The younger son, Mike, relieved him on the weekends.  Now Pat has gone to be with his daughter for the birth of her second child.  Mike comes in at night and then goes to the hospital every day to be with his mom.  Bubba and I try to fill in the gaps so that they will both have someone they know with them.

Fletcher's wife, Jo, had a stroke Friday and has been in the hospital ever since.  She was left unable to verbally communicate, but she has improved almost daily.  She is scheduled to go to rehab, but they are going to allow her to come home for a visit with Fletcher.

The hospice nurse and I were talking last night.  He was telling me how different things are when it is a non-Christian facing death.  He said, "This man is ready.  He is not afraid."

"O death where is thy sting?  O grave where is thy victory?"

   1 Corinthians 15:15