“I know that my redeemer liveth . . .” —Job 19:25
It was the scariest day of my life. We had been up late with a fussy eight-week-old newborn, and Jessica had woken up a couple of times complaining about her head hurting. I had finally drifted off to sleep when I was jarred awake by my wife pounding her fist against her head in agony. I asked what was wrong, and all she could manage in reply was a slurred statement that her head hurt. I tried to get her to sit up, and that’s when we realized that she couldn’t move her right side. No one had ever told me what symptoms to look for in a stroke, but I knew right away that my wife needed to get to the hospital. I grabbed William from his crib, managed somehow to get him in his car seat, then went back and carried my wife out to the car before speeding off toward town.
At that time, we lived in a tiny six-hundred-square-foot shack just outside the town of Morganton, North Carolina. It wasn’t much of a house, but it was all we could afford, and we were happy to be together. We lived about twenty minutes from the hospital, and since it was a Sunday and our church was on the way, we stopped briefly to hand William off to one of the ladies on the staff. (We weren’t skipping church, but with my wife struggling the night before, we had planned to skip Sunday School and just go to the morning service.) From the church, we drove around the corner to the hospital, and I carried Jessica into the emergency room.
The folks at the hospital handed me a sheet of paper, told me to write down my wife’s symptoms and to have a seat until they called for us. We waited another twenty minutes before the receptionist got around to reading our paper, and I could tell from her reaction that something was seriously wrong. She called a nurse immediately, and they brought out a wheelchair, rushed Jessica back to a bed, and hooked her up to an IV. They told us that she was displaying the symptoms of a stroke. Then they said that they couldn’t do anything for her at that hospital, and that she would have to be transported by ambulance to a different hospital an hour away in Asheville.
I’m not sure how long it took for them to get an ambulance ready, but it was long enough for our assistant pastor and his wife to come by the hospital with William. I was able to tell them what was happening, and they offered to take care of William for us. When the ambulance finally arrived, I kissed my wife goodbye for what I suddenly realized could very well be our last kiss, and I rushed out to the parking lot to follow the ambulance to Asheville.
That lonely drive following the ambulance was my Job 19 moment. Job began this chapter in despair, crying out, “God hath overthrown me . . . He hath set darkness in my paths. He hath stripped me of my glory . . . He hath destroyed me on every side.” Job was grieving over trials he didn’t understand. He had devoted his life to serving God, so why did it seem like God was punishing him? It didn’t make any sense. But by the end of the chapter, Job’s attitude had changed. After crying out in anguish and despair, Job gathered himself together, collected his thoughts, and said, “I know that my redeemer liveth, and that he shall stand at the latter day upon the earth: And though after my skin worms destroy this body, yet in my flesh shall I see God.”
Job realized that, in spite of his trials and no matter how many additional hardships he might have to endure, God was still in control. A few chapters earlier, he had said, “Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him,” but in chapter 19, Job took that a step further. He proclaimed that he, Job, the one enduring such great affliction, would be personally victorious and stand in the presence of God, not because of who he was, but because of his faith in his Redeemer. That faith is what gave Job the strength to go through his trials.
As I followed the ambulance carrying my wife that day, I went through a similar progression. I began the trip with tears in my eyes asking God why He would do this to us. But it didn’t take long for Him to remind me that He was still in control, that He had promised never to leave me, and that He would give me the strength to go through whatever trials lay ahead. That day, as I flew down I-40 at ninety-five miles per hour, I prayed (with my eyes open) and told God that my wife belonged to Him. I asked Him to heal her, but I also promised to continue serving Him even if our kiss goodbye turned out to be our last kiss on earth. I realized then that no matter what happens in this life, regardless of what trials I may face, and in spite of any loved ones that may enter glory before me, I know that my Redeemer liveth, and that’s enough for me to press on in His service.