Stephen
Terry, Director
Lessons
of the Past
Commentary
for the March 9, 2024, Sabbath School Lesson
"How long, Lord God Almighty, will your
anger smolder against the prayers of your people? You have fed them with the
bread of tears; you have made them drink tears by the bowlful. You have made us
an object of derision to our neighbors, and our enemies mock us. Restore us,
God Almighty; make your face shine on us, that we may be saved." Psalm 80:4-7
There are times when each of us
feels lost as we try to determine which way to go when life appears to have
abandoned us. We pray, but the heavens seem like brass. Since we cannot see our
future and how it will unfold, and we see no immediate discernable answer, we
feel that God and humanity have abandoned us to our fate. At such times, it can
seem senseless to keep pushing forward trusting in God, who seems indifferent.
The going can become so hard that we understand Job's wife when she told him to
end his suffering, and just "Curse God and die."[i] The
suffering can bring us to our knees in pain and in prayer. It may seem strange
that one would continue to pray in such circumstances, but when faced with
suffering so unique few can understand, there is a logic to turn to the only
one who remains - God.
1979, forty-five years ago, was
a year of momentous change for me. My son was born in April of that year, and I
graduated as a newly minted Theology/Biblical Languages major with a call to
pastor a three-church district in the Midwest. This was a confirmation of the
call I felt to ministry since I was a child. My wife, Shirley, my son, Seth,
and I packed up and moved to a small town in Kansas, ready to do important
things for the Lord. We found that Midwesterners were friendly and supportive.
And they were certainly patient with this wet-behind-the-ears baby pastor
trying his best to determine what was expected of him and accomplish it. I was
the senior and only pastor of a three-church district and spent a lot of time
on the road away from my family as I tried to give equal time to each of the
three parishes.
It was my privilege to assist
the conference evangelist with a crusade at our smallest church where a nice
young couple were baptized, and to perform baptisms in the other two churches
while I was there. I also teamed with the local Adventist doctor, and we
assisted several in overcoming the tobacco habit through the Five-Day Plan to
Stop Smoking popular at the time. One of the baptisms was the result of one of
those efforts when the person wanted to know more about the church that cared
so much about people's health. There are few things more rewarding than seeing
the joy and hope on a person's face when they arise from the baptismal waters
to pursue a changed life.
But there were other changes
coming during our year in that district. My wife began having trouble walking
and feeling numbness in her legs. The doctor I had been working so closely with
would come over on Saturday nights to play chess, and I discussed the problem
with him. He asked that we come to Wichita so she could have testing done. He
told me he thought he knew what the problem was, but he wanted to be sure
before he rendered a diagnosis. In December, during the holiday season, he informed
us that the testing confirmed a diagnosis of Multiple Sclerosis and that there
was no cure. We were devastated. We were both physically active, going out
jogging each evening, but now, Shirley was no longer able to do that. In fact,
the stairs of the split entry parsonage were becoming a challenge for her. To
support her and care for my son, I had to take myself back considerably in
caring for the parishes. Her health was on rapid decline. When we consulted
with a specialist, he confirmed that the high heat and humidity where we were
in Kansas would accelerate her symptoms. He told us she would probably manage a
drier climate much better. Even though there was no cure, we could help her
life quality by relocating. So, in June of 1980, I resigned my pastoral
position, and we moved to the drier climate of the Columbia River Basin in
Eastern Washington.
We struggled for two years
living first in a two-room cabin generously offered rent free by church
members. We had little income then. There was a nice raspberry garden by the
cabin, and I was able to pick the berries and take them into a small town nearby
to sell for gas money so I could look for work. I found no work where we were
living since it was so isolated, so we moved to Grand Coulee where I found employment
setting up mobile homes. When the mobile home company went out of business due
to an economic downturn, I ended up washing dishes at a local cafe. I was
willing to do whatever it took to keep food on the table and support my wife as
she struggled with her health and caring for our son. I became friends with the
local radio station owner, and he asked me to interview our district
congressman on the air. After the interview, the station owner and his wife
offered me the position of advertising sales manager. It was an increase in
income over what I was making as a minimum wage dishwasher and helped to improve
our circumstances.
We had been living in a three-room
house offered to us in exchange for repairs on the house. I upgraded the electrical
panel so the house could have heat and replaced the floor which had rotted away.
But once I was employed by the radio station, the owner wanted cash rent
instead. At the same time, a mobile home became available to simply take over
the payments which we could manage with the new job, and which were less than
the rent wanted for the house. Things were looking up, but then the station
owner and his wife divorced, and the station was sold as part of the
settlement. The new owner let me go as he intended for his children to fill the
positions at the station. But my time at the station helped me develop another
source of income.
When I was selling advertisements
to the local businesses, I discovered that several of the restaurants would close
once per week to drive into Spokane to pick up supplies for the coming week. The
large food and restaurant supply trucks would not deliver to these restaurants because
the orders were too small. I offered to make the runs for them for a fee,
pointing out to them that being able to keep their restaurant open for an extra
day would more than offset the fee. This went well for months until the larger
trucks decided that they could take over that market and offer the smaller
restaurants delivery if they would sign exclusively with them. This left me
unemployed again, and we struggled for months. We fell months behind on our
mobile home space rent, but a kind Adventist anonymously paid the back rent
which allowed us to move to Spokane.
I continued to struggle to find steady
employment until 1983 when I was able to hire on with the State of Washington
Department of Social and Health Services. This provided better income and benefits for my
wife's medical care and for my son's education when he began attending kindergarten
in parochial school the following year. Thankfully, a local Adventist church helped
us with the tuition expenses. Even with steady employment and with the medical bills,
it would have been hard to manage otherwise. Things were starting to stabilize
when I began having unexplained severe pain.
My primary care doctor referred
me to a rheumatologist, and I was diagnosed with Ankylosing Spondylitis, a
severely painful autoimmune condition. The pain would get so severe that I
could only crawl about the house, which made it exceedingly difficult to care
for my wife, who was having increasing problems with locomotion herself. I
remember praying often to God if he could not heal me at least help me deal
with the pain. Over the years, I have been on sulfa drugs, steroids,
non-steroidal anti-inflammatories, and opioids. None of these were an ideal
solution as they dealt with the pain but could not stop the progression of the
disease. Eventually, they developed biologics that are more helpful, although extremely
expensive. While pain continues to be a constant challenge preventing adequate
sleep and interfering with daily routines, I have had the additional blessing that
the biologics are now free for me as a veteran. Nonetheless, despite the
medical advances, I am noticing as I age, the pain is increasing and that is
the reason I have shared all of this.
Through all the years my wife
dealt with the extremely debilitating Multiple Sclerosis, she never lost her
faith in God. Despite our struggles, I was extremely blessed by the testimony
of her life, and as I have faced my own challenges, I cannot complain because she
dealt with far more than I have so far even to the point of death, and if she
could stand firm, so can I. So much of the Old Testament, including the Psalms
is about obedience to avoid God's wrath. Some would equate the sufferings
people endure to their lack of obedience and God's wrathful punishment for
their straying. Jesus came to set that all straight. He revealed that God does
not seek the straying lamb to punish it for straying. He seeks it and us out of
love. It was not Shirley's obedience that saved her, and no obedience prevented her from suffering in this life. It was her faith
that sustained her and enabled my belief that I will see her again one day in a realm without
pain and suffering. To believe when life tells us it makes no sense to believe, to love
others as God loves us and to keep on loving despite the pain, this is what
saves us.[ii]
I have been fortunate enough to
have remarried and to have found a wife who also looks forward to Jesus' return.
Karin, my current wife, understands that it is faith active in love that saves
us, and she and I look forward to that day when we can see Shirley without her
Multiple Sclerosis and join Karin's son and my son and his family in a better
world than this one. That alone makes the pain worth enduring.