After writing last night’s blog about Nate’s crisis of faith, this morning I dug out my old prayer journal from those same dates in mid-January, 2005, to see what other details might surface about that turbulent time. In the process, right there in the basement, I was the recipient of a water-in-the-face moment from God.

One of my prayers written when Nate was away on his three day “retreat” leaped off the page at me. I’d been praying for a day when his doubts or anxieties would leave him, freeing him up to follow the Lord with abandon, “his heart, soul, mind and strength.”

I wrote, “Draw him powerfully to you, Lord. Make it all sensible to him. If there are any misunderstandings, apply this verse to them: ‘If any man be in Christ, he is a new creation; old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new.’ (2 Corinthians 5:17)

Continuing, I prayed, “In an instant make all things new for Nate. Clear his head of his earthly woes. Bring him to look at you full-face and to see who you really are. Please release him from the bondage of earthly pressures, 100%.”

My water-in-the-face was realizing how specifically God has answered every request:

• Nate is a new creation.
• Old things have passed away.
• All things have become new
• It all happened in one instant.
• His head has been cleared of earthly woes.
• He is looking at Jesus full-face.
• He sees Jesus Christ for who he really is.
• He’s been released from earthly pressures 100%.

DONE!

I was especially impacted today when I realized I’d asked for Nate to see Jesus full-face. In my prayer I meant for this to happen figuratively, which is the only way it can happen here on earth. Amazingly, God answered that prayer beyond my expectation by doing it literally. And it all happened in an instant on November 3, 2009. No more looking through a glass darkly. Everything is clear.

I wrote out ten pages of prayer over Nate on that weekend he was away, longing to see him soar in what was an increasingly cluttered relationship with the Lord. The cares of this world can clog a person’s spiritual outlook (Mark 4:19), and Nate’s many pressures seemed to be doing that. Toward the end of those prayer pages I wrote, “If things have to get worse before they get better… please show yourself, Lord, in that process.”

Things certainly worsened in terms of back pain and cancer but also with increased strain in work related issues. But God showed us repeatedly he was in the process every step of the way. Today, though, Nate is a “new creation” with a clear, uncluttered perspective. If we could have 30 seconds with him, he’d grin ear-to-ear with literally not a care in that world and say, “It was all worth it!”

So here the rest of us are, human beings doing the best we can to pace through life with our feet on the earth and our eyes on Jesus (figuratively), slogging through some tough stuff but trying not to get weighed down by the worries of this world. We wonder what’s just around the bend but recognize that at the end of all our tomorrows, today’s concerns will be swept away like so much debris on a floor. In their place will be a life so happy-go-lucky, we’ll all join with Nate in saying, “It was all worth it!” But wouldn’t it be spectacular if we could actually say that … today?

“Be careful, or your hearts will be weighed down with… the anxieties of life.” (Luke 21:34a)

Nate was not a naturally peaceful person. He was a firstborn, a Type A, high strung, always planning, making lists and setting new goals. Despite his efforts, his last few years were especially difficult. As he approached 65 without having met some of his business and financial goals, he worried more and slept less. Then the arrival of severe back pain in early 2009 seemed to squeeze out the last of his energy. Although there was an operation that would remedy his pain, just when it was within reach, pancreatic cancer came between him and his surgeon.

Nate was always a hard worker. His goal was to continue full-steam-ahead into his seventies, but debilitating back problems and deadly cancer forced him to the sidelines of life, a place he’d never been and didn’t like. As the six weeks went by, he became uncharacteristically introspective, keeping many of his thoughts to himself. I believe God had him doing difficult work during those days. Life as Nate had known it had come to a screeching halt, and suddenly there was time to think, not just about business, money and goals but about life, death and eternity.

Recently I found a journal Nate had written in 2005. Since he didn’t usually write anything longer than a Post-it note could hold, I was surprised to find it. I remembered the dates on its pages, though, having journaled my own thoughts about him during those days. He’d gone through a distressful period of restlessness, and I’d encouraged him to step out of his routine and get recharged by seeking God’s direction.

He went away for three days to think, read and pray. Later he told me he’d fasted during those days, too, allowing himself only coffee and water. His goal had been to answer this question: Am I worthy to be a Christian?

As I prayed for him at home while he was gone, not knowing what was on his mind, God brought Matthew 11:28 to my attention: “Come to me, all you that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” So I prayed for his rest, both physically and spiritually.

Nate was agitated, edgy and without contentment during those days, probably in a crisis of personal faith. He needed to learn how to rest in the love of the Lord, separate and apart from performance, but such resting doesn’t come easily to a Type A. He wrote in his journal, “Ingratitude undermines the goodness of life by always feeling entitled to more and better.”

From the sound of things, there was a battle raging within him. Then last year, when his back pain escalated to unmanageable levels, I believe it was God asking him to stop laboring and accept his rest, but Nate couldn’t. He pushed himself harder than ever, determined to function at the same pace he always had, despite the pain.

Eventually God said, “Nate, I’m not giving up on you. Instead I’m going to let cancer come, because you’ve struggled long enough and need your rest.” But even with cancer, Nate did more questing than resting.

God is love, though, and so he put Nate in bed. I believe it was during those final days that Nate saw things God’s way. At long last he became willing to accept outward rest and inner peace. With all his back pain and then cancer, he’d finally given in.

Charles Spurgeon said, “Jesus gives a rest which develops into heaven.” That’s exactly what happened to Nate. God imposed his rest on him, and as Nate surrendered, he was ushered into heaven.

“God’s rest is there for people to enter, but those who first heard this good news failed to enter because they disobeyed God. So God set another time for entering his rest, and that time is today. For all who have entered into God’s rest have rested from their labors, just as God did after creating the world. So let us do our best to enter that rest. But if we disobey God… we will fall.” (Hebrews 4:6-7, 10-11)

I love living in Michigan, but there were some big losses when we moved from our old stomping grounds in Illinois. We grieved over leaving the church we’d attended for 21 years, The Orchard in Arlington Heights. Precious friendships were left behind, as well as a talented pastoral staff.

The head pastor, Colin Smith, had gone above and beyond in taking care of Nate and me. I remember back to one of his early sermons as our new pastor over a decade ago. When he preached that day, his words challenged me by raising new questions in my mind, so I jotted them down on the church bulletin, hoping to ponder them later.

Eventually I transferred my questions to the computer, all 57 of them, many with two or three parts. The problem came in figuring out how to get the answers. Feeling frustrated, I decided to send the list to Pastor Colin. If nothing else, it would prove to him he’d preached a great sermon that had his congregation thinking.

The next day I told Nate what I’d done. “Remember all those questions I scribbled down during the service yesterday?” He did. “I typed them up and sent the list to Colin.”

“How many questions?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Fifty-seven.”

“Fifty-seven questions? Were you expecting he would answer them all?”

“Not really.” I said. “Was it bad I sent them?”

Wanting to be kind, he said, “Well, I’m sure he’ll respond to you.” (Lawyers would call that a “non-answer.”)

Four days before Nate died, all of us sensed him barreling toward death at lightning speed. Wanting to make him comfortable, we continually questioned him, easily topping 57. “Can I get you anything? Would you like a drink of water? Are you cold? Can I warm up your coffee?”

Even the Hospice nurses came with an arsenal of queries. “How is your pain today? Where does it hurt most? Are your meds working?”

That evening I bent down in front of his lazy-boy hoping to make the end of his stressful day better. “Can I get you some juice? Would you like another ice pack for your back? Should I take your shoes off?”

He wasn’t talking much by that time, and none of us left enough space between questions to give him room to think, much less respond. Finally, he let us know about it. He raised his hand in front of me like a stop-sign and with great effort, slowly and deliberately said, “No… more… questions,” and then let his hand fall into his lap.

I was stunned. It hadn’t occurred to me every sentence I’d spoken to him that day had been a question. In my efforts to ease his misery, I’d only added to it.

From then on, all of us tried to catch ourselves when we started ticking off another list of inquiries. By the next day, not knowing he had only three days left, Nate struggled valiantly against pain. Along with increased meds came decreased speech. From his vantage point, that might have been a relief, because once he couldn’t answer, we stopped asking.

Generally it’s good to ask questions, but like all good things taken to an extreme, it can become damaging. I suppose a good question to ask ourselves would be, “Is my question necessary?” (Most of what we wanted to do for Nate could have been done without asking.)

After Pastor Colin received my 57 questions, he did respond, just as Nate said he would. “I read through all of them,” he said over the phone, unable to see my red face. “I believe asking sincere questions of God, as you have, can be an act of worship.”

Within that encouraging comment was the key: to whom are we bringing our questions? They ought to be taken to the person most qualified to answer. And if we’re asking questions only God can answer, the good news is he’s always eager to be asked. No question about it.

“Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives, and he who seeks finds, and to him who knocks it will be opened.” (Matthew 7:7-8)