Last Breath

Last Breath

I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, and I have remained faithful. And now the prize awaits me—the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will give me on the day of his return. And the prize is not just for me but for all who eagerly look forward to his appearing. 2 Timothy 4:7-8

Nights on the farm in South Georgia were so quiet that even the roosters slept later than sunrise. But not my Aunt Sophie. She was up before the roosters. We would hear her in the kitchen, cracking eggs into the sizzling black cast-iron frying pan.

Over the years, there was another sound that signaled morning—my uncle’s smoker’s cough. In the beginning, it wasn’t a big deal, but as time went on it became distastefully loud, scaring us all awake.

“Uncle Luther, someday those cigarettes are going to catch up with you,” I said to him more than once.

His answer was always the same. “You’re probably right. I try to quit about twenty times a day.”

A few years later, our fears were realized when an X-ray revealed that Uncle Luther had lung cancer in his right middle lobe. The surgeon felt confident he could get rid of it by a simple lobectomy.

As a doctor, I now know that when someone has moderate COPD from forty years of smoking, there is nothing simple about a lobectomy. Fortunately, Luther survived the surgery, but afterward, he was only about half the man he used to be. As summer passed, he depended more and more on others to help him with the chores.

By the next summer, he was tethered to an oxygen tank in the house. We prayed together more that summer than any other, and I spent a lot of time talking with Uncle Luther about life and death. But as his physical body weakened, Uncle Luther’s faith only seemed to grow, and he looked forward to his forever home.

I wasn’t at his side when he died, but I’m certain that his last difficult breath on earth was followed by a deep inhalation of joy in heaven.

Uncle Luther lived by today’s verse above, fighting the good fight until the end. When he finished the race, he was no longer winded; instead, he was very much fulfilled.

TODAY’S RX

Keep your eye on the prize—your forever home—and finish the race well.

Lord, give me the strength to fight the good fight, finish the race well, and remain faithful to you throughout my healing process. It is only by your grace that I’m capable of persevering.