The saddest day

Today definitely ranks among the saddest days of my life. Only two other days come to mind which were in any way similar.  The first was when, in my childhood, I was informed that my grannie, to whom I was very close, had died.  I vividly remember crying myself to sleep as the stark and awful reality of death hit me for the first time.  The other occasion was when my dad died.  I couldn’t even sing the hymns at his funeral service, such was the depth of emotion which I experienced.  Even though dad died over a quarter of a century ago, there are still times when I really miss him.

Mum and Dad had four daughters in fairly rapid succession.  Though they loved the girls, some years later they decided to give it one last go for a boy, and lo and behold, I appeared on the scene!  Then, six years later (more by accident than by planning), along came our little brother, Phil.  Mum was very poorly during the pregnancy and the doctor told dad that mum might pull through but the chances were that the baby wouldn’t survive.  Despite this bleak prediction, Phil lived to tell the tale, and I had a little brother to play with!

At times, I have felt a bit sorry for Phil, as being by far the youngest member of the family, the chances were that he was likely to have to live through the deaths of his older siblings.  Life doesn’t always turn out as expected, of course, and the whole family were shocked when, about two and a half years ago, Phil was diagnosed with cancer of the oesophagus and given only a very short time to live.

Much prayer was mobilised, and after being almost at death’s door, Phil’s health rather miraculously began to recover, so much so that the doctors were unable to explain it!  Though taking early retirement on health grounds, Phil (alongside his amazing wife, Monika) continued his ministry and shared a powerful message of God’s love in Christ; many people were profoundly touched by his testimony.  We were privileged to have him speak at two of my churches on separate occasions.

Phil’s ministry as a Church Army Officer took him to Woodlands (Doncaster), Page Moss (Liverpool), and most recently to Auckland, New Zealand, where he was National Director of Church Army New Zealand.  He and Monika, together with their children Mike & Emily, fell in love with the country and were recently made New Zealand citizens.  Phil was a true Pioneer, with a willingness to follow the leading of the Holy Spirit.  He wasn’t afraid to step out of the boat and take risks for the sake of the gospel.  He loved Jesus and his greatest desire was to introduce people to Him.

Every day since we learned of Phil’s cancer diagnosis I have prayed for his healing and restoration to full health.  When he made such a great recovery it seemed that our prayers were being answered.  Phil certainly made it clear how much he had appreciated and experienced the power of prayer.  But the cancer doggedly remained.  I know what great vision Phil had for New Zealand; his desire was for everyone in the country to hear the life-saving message of salvation in Jesus.  Indeed, I’ve said more than once that if it had been possible to change places with Phil I would gladly have done so, enabling him to fulfil what he saw as his God-given calling.

I know beyond doubt that it was within God’s power to heal Phil. Many have prayed for and with Phil for the complete healing to come.  I’m struggling to see how it can have been be God’s will for Phil to die of cancer, and I’ll probably never understand.  Yet I rely in the Bible’s promise that God can turn even the worst of times and experiences to good.

Of course, the deepest reality is that for Phil, complete healing has come.  He is in the presence of the one whom he served so faithfully, in the place where God ‘will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain’ (Revelation 21.4).  And certainly, Phil’s ministry over the past couple of years has had extra influence and effect because of what he has lived through.  I’m not going to rage at God, even if I do wish things had turned out differently.  I’ll miss Phil terribly, but I know I’ll see him again one day, and I guess that dad will be surprised that Phil was the first of us to join him (our 94-year-old mum is still alive)!

I am so pleased that I got the chance to tell Phil how much his life inspired me and to express my love for him before he died.  The last time he was in the UK, only a few months ago, I asked him to share a brief message at one of my churches.  His message to us was “Don’t Give Up!” and that message will forever remain with me and encourage me.  Thank you, little brother, you gave me far more than I can ever put into words.  I will always love you.  See you again one day.  Desperately sad though this day is, there can be much rejoicing in a life well lived, and a multitude of precious memories.  I can hear the words of Jesus as he greets Phil, “Well done, good and faithful servant.”

Let me finish this blog by sharing some words which Phil’s wife Monika put on Facebook following Phil’s death:

“In the early hours of this morning this WONDERFUL man of God and hubby of nearly 33 years passed away quietly and peacefully. He made me promise not to say 'he lost the battle with cancer' (because you can't 'battle' cancer) but I will say this: That cancer raging in his body for nearly 2 ½ years did not stop him from serving God and doing incredible ministry, going on some amazing trips, having great adventures and staying true to his positive, faith-filled, visionary, missional, proactive, wickedly humorous, caring and loving self, being the most wonderful husband any woman has ever had! I will miss him so terribly much, but I know I will see him again in heaven, Thank you, Jesus!”