On a warm September afternoon in 1979, I was out in my workshop making a towel
rack for my upstairs bathroom.
As soon as I heard my parents' voices I knew something was "Chuck, the doctor just told me I have leukemia."
"He's been feeling so good, I can't understand it," Mom added.
My mother had only recently recovered from a blow to the Dad was speaking, "Charles, I want you to be ready, I may
"I'll come as soon as you call."
"Charles, I'm going to fight this thing all the way."
"Good, Dad, we're praying for you."
"Charles, can you baptize me when you come? I've been
"Of course, Dad. We'll do it."
I arrived in San Antonio three weeks later. Dad was failing. My sister had
flown in from Massachusetts. The doctors had tried her blood and my aunt Jane's,
but nothing was working. The last hope was my white blood cells. Within a day, I
was strapped to the blood machine with tubes running in and out of my arms. Soon I could observe
blood running out of me through a centrifugal machine. It whirled the blood at high
speed extracting the white cells and returning the red cells. I was on the machine four times in a week about four hours at a time. Each time left me feeling weak. One evening, in front of a neighbor, nurses, my mother, and myself, my dad
shared how he had given his life to Christ and received Jesus as his Lord and Savior.
He had believed when he was a boy, but had been offended by a Sunday School teacher
and left the church he was in. I found it amazing how seemingly small encounters
can effect the course of our lives.
Because he could not get out of his bed, I sprinkled him with water. What
grace I felt present in that room; what amazing love that would allow me to lead
my seventy year old father to Christ and baptize him. The following is an account
of my final time with my father as read at his memorial service June 1980.
I had just inserted the dowel into place and was
about to apply shellac when the phone rang in the house, and
Mary
called me.
wrong. My dad had
retired in 1973 from the foreign service
because of a blood disease. Over the last
six years he had
lived in San Antonio and had vastly improved. I had visited
him
earlier that year and caddied for him as he played his
usual fine game of golf. I could
feel the tension in his voice
as he told me,
head she had received
in a robbery. Dad had to care for Mom
for some time afterward. Now somehow she
had to muster
strength to care for him. They had both always sacrificed for
others.
In fact their reason for moving to San Antonio was to
help care for Dad's 101 year old mother.
need you to give me
white blood cells. I'm going in soon for
three to six weeks of intense chemotherapy.
Can you come?"
thinking about it for
a long time."
Mary and I had received Christ into our hearts in 1969-70. I had asked Jesus in
on a street corner and since that time I had tried to share the good news with my
parents. I had been quite a flake and it took a few years for my folks to understand
that my life had really changed. After a few years, they began to respond and I started
mailing Bible studies to them. They filled them out and mailed the studies back
to me. It was so precious, I could only stand in awe at the Lord's grace. I was
constantly reminded of Wordsworth's words "the child is father to the man." It was like
I was Dad and he was the child. I now realize that this was working a deep humility
in my father and mother as well as in myself.
While I was sitting there each day, I had the opportunity to share about Jesus with
the nurses. One of them was the wife of a local TV weatherman who was also a Christian. After I told her about my father, she told her husband. From that point on, this
wonderful servant of Christ visited my father each day in his hospital room and later
at his house. He read to him from scripture and prayed with him until six months
later, Dad went to be with the Lord. I had prayed that Dad have someone to minister to
him when I wasn't there, and Jesus mercifully answered my prayer.
My white cells temporarily gave Dad new life. He felt well enough several days
later to be dressed in a fresh white hospital gown by a very cooperative hospital
staff.
given your cells to me and watched you change to a little child before my eyes. O father, Like a helpless baby you search for comfort in your struggle.
I sprinkle water on your head
Each night I hold your hand and pray,
You are so tender inside
The nurses love you, |
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Tuesday night you say,
"Let me pray for you".
Wednesday night came and it was time to go.
I read Psalm 121.
I pray, "Thank you, Lord Jesus
for a dad who loves you.
I give you a farewell kiss,
Charles E. Smith
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