Momentary

2 Corinthians 4:17-18 

For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal.

I had the unenviable task for any doctor, let alone any man. I went to my patient’s home to see her, and talk to her husband about the inevitability of death. 

Nikki is 32 and a mother of four beautiful boys. She has cancer of unknown primary, possibly from breast, but metastatic to the liver. She’s barely living. Her skin is jaundiced, she’s half the size she was before diagnosis which was less than four months ago, and severely cachectic. Cancer is literally eating her away in front of our eyes. I sat with her and discussed her symptoms and ways to manage them. I held her hands. I talked to her little children who have shaved off their hair in support of their mom. I shook hands with her parents who don’t speak English. There was tension all around. I simply didn’t have the courage to tell her that her days are now numbered. But I had to prepare her husband for the inevitable. 

Later, I asked him to follow me to my car. John and I sat in my car and started talking about Nikki and her cancer and my thoughts about her disease and prognosis. 

John was just quiet. He had no words. No tears. Nothing. I asked him how he’s handling all of this. Here’s his reply in his words. 

“Our promise is not in health, wealth, or prosperity but in the eternity that the lord has prepared for us. I know there’s nothing that can take us away from that. Paul was beaten, arrested, in a shipwreck and marooned. Yet he called it, “light momentary affliction”. When people stop in church and tell me, “God is good”, I just reply, “what made you think he isn’t”. Nothing that has happened has changed our relationship with him. We trust him.”

Is there a man of greater faith and love for God in this World? 

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Postscript:

John's sister-in-law later emailed me this: 

"John’s response is truly a God given act of tangible love and faith. His life has been a tough one. He lost his oldest sister to suicide and last week his boss told him he may sell the business, and John may lose his current job.

And yet, like Job, John stands by our sweet Lord."