(Part IV of IV)

In the 13 years since I first wrote about Brian and Ellen, they have logged countless parenting lessons—and sprouted a few grey hairs in the process.

While Isaiah—now 24 and 6' 4"—has progressed beyond early predictions, behavior trials erupted at every stage of his development: family-rousing insomnia, outbursts of temper, confusion and hyperactivity due to food allergies, adverse medication side effects.

Meanwhile, another medical crisis bubbled up for Ellen with her diagnosis of hemochromatosis, a toxic accumulation of iron in the body causing fatigue, weakness, and joint pain. And a few years later, Brian suffered a stroke—a blinding flash out of the blue sky of an ordinary workday.

Sprinkle in all the expected challenges of modern life, and a rosy attitude can sprout thorns overnight. But these are special people. Their faith has deep roots which seek out a well of peace in times of great suffering.

Ellen expressed it this way in February of 2021:

“Lord, the one you love is sick.” As I’m writing this, my husband of twenty-three years is in an ICU bed because of a stroke. It literally happened hours ago and I haven’t slept, but these words, once uttered by Jesus’ close friends Mary and Martha, keep playing in my mind. Lord, the one You love – the one I love – is sick. In that short phrase, I am asking Him to care, to come, to help.

The voice of faith tells me in the words of this scriptural account that Jesus does care and will come. I share the sisters' faith that He can and will help. How hard it is for me to read the next few verses then that He tarried for days. “Now Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus. So, when He heard that he was sick, He stayed two more days in the place where He was” (Matthew 11:5-6).

I was unable to give him comfort in his own time of paralyzing fear, because someone had to stay home with our son. So my husband is alone. I am alone. And the Lord tarries.

People think I am stronger than I really am and have no idea just how much support I draw from the man who is going to be changed by this event.

I [can't know] what lies ahead in my personal story. Yet I owe my sisters in Christ, Mary and Martha, a debt of gratitude that the Holy Spirit caused us to see their very human moments with the Lord in their own crisis. “Lord, if you had been here my brother would not have died,” Martha said in verse 21. Lord, if you had dealt with this COVID stuff like we asked you to, maybe the pressure cooker of stress we’ve been living under wouldn’t have put us in this place. Let’s be honest. I thought it.

I’m so glad the account doesn’t stop there though. Jesus' own words reach me through the intimate verses that follow. First, Martha’s own confession, “But even now I know that whatever You ask of God, God will give You” (Matthew 11:22). I have to be careful here. My heart wants to say, “If I ask, that means you’ll make everything like it was before, like nothing happened, right?” But a promise to “give me back what I had yesterday” isn’t what this confession is about.

Just like with Martha, Jesus presses me a bit. “Your [husband] will rise again.” With those few words He puts the focus back on the wider, eternal picture. How easy it is to say, “Yeah, I know, but…” I can acknowledge all the words from Sunday School, Confirmation, Bible Class in my head, but my heart finds “Thy will be done” a hard pill sometimes.

Whether He tarries or not, He does care, has come, and will help. “Lord, the one you love is sick.” Thank you, Savior, for coming.

***

Though Brian recovered beautifully from his stroke, he and Ellen have certainly swallowed more than their share of hard pills. Their example of faith-fueled determination to overcome hardship in favor of joy inspires me daily in my own small struggles. I am so very glad their account doesn't stop here.