It was good to be back at Daybreak this morning. Scott preached, which I appreciated. I had no clue whether I would be up for it or not. He’s such a good man in every sense of the word.
A friend and colleague in ministry went home to be with Jesus on Thursday. Teresa and I are going to his homegoing celebration this afternoon. His family, his wife’s family, and our family have been intertwined for four decades in too many ways to mention. Phil was diagnosed with lymphoma last year. He endured several months of chemotherapy. Last fall when his health permitted visitors, Teresa and I and another ministry couple went to see Phil and Janet. We sat outside Cardinal Hill hospital. We laughed and cried and prayed. It was bittersweet. It was also the last time I saw him. One of the blessings of my life was to take Phil’s hand and pray for him that afternoon. We both could feel the connection of the Holy Spirit because I had some clue what he was feeling and he knew that I did. His wife, Janet, is a saint if there ever was one. She was grieving the loss of her father, Ben, who was also a pastor. Her mother was not too far from being in heaven with her father. It wasn’t long after our meeting that God called her home, too. In the past year she had lost both of her parents and her husband was fighting what ended up being terminal cancer. A week ago Friday Teresa went to sit with Janet in the hospital. I wrote the following on Thursday morning while I was waiting for my critical doctor’s appointment. I have a good friend who is a pastor whom I have known since college. He has been dealing with lymphoma for the last 8-9 months. Recently, he received the painful news that he has a recurrence. Teresa went to see his wife a few days ago. When the wife looked up and saw Teresa, she broke into tears and said, “I know that you know.” Indeed, Teresa would know much of what she was feeling, especially as a pastor’s wife. Even down to the possibility that her husband would likely never pastor again. It’s the only life she has known. That thought has had to pass through Teresa’s mind. “I know that you know.” That five-word sentence has so many possibilities. When I heard the news of Phil’s passing, I deleted that from Thursday’s post out of my love for Janet and their family. For sure Teresa knew what it was like to deal with a husband who has faced an illness and the possibility of losing him. But thankfully she doesn’t know what Janet now does. There may come a day when Janet comes to see Teresa and Teresa will return the “I know that you know.” Hopefully no time soon. Phil and I texted several times after our visit. When he heard the news of my medical issues, he sent me as moving of a text as I have received, letting me know that he was praying for me. Here was a brother who was dealing with far greater issues, telling me that I was in his prayers. One text said, “Praying for God’s healing grace to overwhelm you and give you all you need each day ahead, whatever that may mean.” It was reciprocal. I had prayed for him every day since I heard the news of his illness. After I got the news on Thursday that God had said to Phil, “Enough, my son. Come on home.” I called Teresa. After the initial shock, she said, “Phil died on the exact same day as her dad died, one year to the day. 3:16. Teresa remembered because Emma’s birthday is 3:16. How could that possibly be? Maybe from the hand of a loving, Heavenly Father who knew one really tough day in March each year might be easier than two really tough days that were close to each other. What better day than the only 3:16 day of the year for two warrior shepherds to go home with Jesus? I got this text from Phil last November before any news of my recent medical issues: “I have been thinking about you and have been wanting to talk to you about finishing strong. It is tough to keep going right now, but I know that you have done it. When my immune system is a little stronger, I’d like to chat with you.” My brother, Phil, there was little insight that I could give you about finishing strong. I never had the opportunity to speak with you face to face in this life again. But what you faced these last couple of weeks and especially the last few days of your life, you taught me and a lot of others what it takes to finish strong. When that day comes for me, I will think of you. You have fought the good fight. You have finished your race. You have kept the faith. I have no doubt that you have heard, “Well done, good and faithful servant.”
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Chuck Cooper
Pastor at Daybreak Community Church Archives
November 2024
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