Going downhill... fast

The name of the sender on a private message to me on my Facebook page made me want to open the message right away. I wish I had waited. Had I waited I would have been in a more private location. Crying at my desk with the door to my office wide open is not always the most preferable place to "lose it."

The message had that basic message of, "I thought you would want to know..."

Yes, I wanted to know.

The message had that basic message at the end of, "I am sure he would love to hear from you..."

Yes, I want him to hear from me. And yes, I want to hear about him from him.

So I did.

His lovely wife answered the phone.
We were both so delighted to hear one another's voice.
I shared that I had heard some very distressing news about her husband of 60 plus years.
Her voice quivered and she said, "Would you like to talk with him? He is right here."

She put the phone down and I heard her say, "Honey... it's David Dendy."
His thick Missouri accent filled my ear piece as his voice was much weaker than the last time I heard it.

In typical fashion he immediately directed the conversation into wanting to hear all about me and my family and my new position in Dubuque.

I obliged.

And then came that moment of silence.

It didn't last long...

I said, "I hear some very distressing news about you."

"Yes David. It's true. I am going downhill fast and I can't stop it. The doctors say I have about two weeks to live if I don't do any treatment and about five months if I do treatment."

We both started to cry... I mean I really started to cry. I tried to speak but my face being all contorted the way it gets when I cry and my voice going up an octave or two when I try to talk, I didn't get very far in saying how sorry I was.

My dear friend interrupted me, "David... David... I am going to be fine. You don't worry about me. I am going to be just fine."

We talked for a few more moments and then he said to me what he said to me every Sunday at the front door of the First Presbyterian Church in Klamath Falls, Oregon, "Tell Julie we said hello!"

I will... and with crocodile tears rolling down my face... I did... I told Julie you said, "Hello."

My iWitness...

I remember the first time I rode my bicycle downhill fast.
My first bike was bought at the "Grants" department store in Atlanta, Georgia. I was in first grade.
It was green with a banana seat with "U" shaped handlebars. The extra dynamic feature was that it had a speedometer strategically placed on the handlebars so I could see how fast I was going.

There was a big hill near our home. The street ended in a "T". I remember going down the hill and the needle on the speedometer surpassing "20 MPH".

I remember panicking, thinking, "I am going downhill fast... what if I can't stop?" Of course I put on the brake and came to a stop at the bottom of the hill... safe and sound.

From the Christian perspective, here is the good news..

There might come a time in our life where we discover that we are going downhill... fast... and we cannot stop... all the brakes of medicine and cures will not stop us.

Guess who's waiting at the bottom of the hill?

Jesus... arms open wide... ready to catch us and welcome us into the new heaven, the new kingdom where the scriptures that we have read for years becomes the new reality...

"He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.” (Revelation 21. 4)

To my friend who is going downhill fast and can't stop...
"I will miss you! Thank you for all of your love and support that you gave to me and my family! And thank you for always telling me to tell Julie you said, "Hello."
I have one favor my dear friend...
With the biggest smile you have every smiled, "Tell Jesus we said, "Hello!"

And that's my iWitness...
Laugh often and Fear not!
David!