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Jeemes Akers

THE LOSS OF A FRIEND


“To lose a friend is the greatest of all losses.”

                                                                                         Cicero

 

“Death is not the opposite of life, but a part of it.”

                                                                                         Haruki Murakami

 

“I am prepared to meet my Maker. Whether my Maker is prepared for the great ordeal of meeting me is another matter.”

                                                                                         Winston Churchill

 

 

 

 It has been a long time between missives. Ima and I have been traveling, including a delightful trip to Hawaii with friends, followed by my trip to Oklahoma City to look at the Westwin Elements pilot plant in Lawton, Oklahoma and a visit with my favorite CEO, my former student KaLeigh Long. In the process, my friend Robert Elliott and I got stranded in OKC because of the computer glitch that grounded airlines around the country. In short, we had so many flights cancelled by Delta that we said “enough is enough,” and rented a car for the 12-13-hour drive back to Ohio.

As a result, I’m done traveling for a bit and now enjoying the routine here in Springboro, Ohio: spending time with Ima, planting flowers in the yard, and playing cards in the kitchen with my sisters.

Another reason that has slowed my output of missives is that I have been reviewing the wording in my third book. Indeed, I just sent the manuscript for the final book of my futuristic Christian techno-fiction Prawnocuos Trilogy to my designer in New York. The book—the culmination of over thirty years of thought and writing—is my legacy to my grandchildren and former students. The book, Prawnocuos Falling, should be available in a matter of weeks. Please look at my website at jeemesakers.com for further details.

Thanks so much to all of you who have been so kind in your remarks and reviews of books one and two of the trilogy.

Of course, in the interim between missives, the world has changed dramatically: a failed assassination attempt on former President Donald Trump, a Democratic Party coup to oust Joe Biden, the opening ceremony of the Paris Olympic games featuring an act by drag queens and homosexuals that mocked the Last Supper of Christ.

“Sigh”

Everywhere I look these days, and with each news story, I see mounting evidence of the fallen times in which we are living. Each new twist and turn provide additional reminders that the Last Day is rapidly approaching.

Our world has become topsy-turvy and seems to be changing by the minute.

Yesterday afternoon, for example, I received an urgent call from my friend Christopher McDonald to make a short-notice appearance on his nationwide Christian McFiles podcast. The topic: Hezbollah’s rocket barrage into the Golan Heights that killed the most Israelis since the October 7th massacre—many of the casualties and wounded were young kids playing at a playground and soccer field. An event which portends a dangerous upward spiral of violence and war in the already troubled Middle East.

“Sigh.”

So, I have decided to start reading the Book of Matthew again.

Ima suggested that we read it together.

What a great idea!

From my stack of bibles, I pulled out my favorite version. I love reading the text and commentary in the Spirit-Filled Life Bible, edited by Jack Hayford.

As I opened the Bible to the Book of Matthew a folded piece of paper tumbled out. I recognized my handwriting from many years ago, in the days before the “family tremors” in my hands turned my handwriting into an almost unrecognizable scrawl.

The note was dated Tuesday, April 20, 2010. It read as follows:

 

“My good friend Chuck died today at 2:00 p.m. Wayne [Brittingham] called Ima at home to deliver the news and Ima called me at work. I had spent time with Chuck on Sunday afternoon: praying, believing, anointing him with oil, touching him in those areas of pain, and claiming a ‘ridiculous miracle’ on his behalf. Yet, at the same time, I knew—and he knew—even as he slipped in-and-out of groggy medication, that it was probably our last time together. I assured Chuck that he was a special blessing in my life, and in my spirit began the process of bargaining with God for more time for my friend, trusting there was yet purpose …

Though the news was no surprise, nevertheless I was stunned when the final word came.

In our culture, we just don’t do a good job of handling death’s finality.

Chuck and I shared the experience of colon cancer. In that sense, I have lost a fellow traveler. Both of us shared a love for sports; Chuck enjoyed an outing to the ballpark almost as much as he enjoyed a good dessert following a big steak. Most importantly, we both shared a love for Jesus Christ!

Chuck was a quiet, unassuming, mild-mannered, soft-spoken and gentle man. He ran the sound board for our church services without complaint. He loved good Christian music. The last time we shared a meal together, at the Globe and Laurel Restaurant, he explained to me with a voice cracking with emotion, and a moist glistening gathering in his eyes, how the disease wracking his body was worth it all: because it had brought him and his wife Susan closer together. I knew by the tone in Chuck’s voice that he really meant it.

Much of the time during our Sunday visit was praying for Susan. She had been on a challenging spiritual journey, but she was a champion of faith at Chuck’s bedside. We asked for wisdom in her coming decisions and for favor with medical personnel. I tried to assuage any sense of guilt: ‘none of this is your fault,’ I assured her.  Later she told Wayne that she had a confirming word that the end was near and felt like God had asked her if she would be mad at Him if He took Chuck away.

I recall sobbing deeply as I drove my pick-up truck home after work. There is so much I don’t understand about the ways of God the Father. About the issues of life and death. About discerning when to administer faith and hope. About knowing the difference between words catering to brotherly love and God’s purpose for others. Wondering how effective my faith is in coping with deathbed situations. I know with certainty Chuck now is in a better place: in the heavenly hereafter there is no cancer, no hospitals, no sick beds, and no oxygen tubes. I know Jesus has prepared a special place for Chuck, and in my mind’s eye, it is surrounded by so many of his beloved azaleas that it will make Susan gasp in amazement when she sees the place…

Friendship is God’s most treasured trust.

The tears streaming down my cheeks that day were not for him but for me. The loss of yet another fellow believer and friend has ripped a hole in the fabric of my experience …

I will miss him.

I am so grateful that I had a final opportunity on this side of the veil to tell Chuck how much of a blessing he had been in our lives. I remember whispering to him how much Jesus loved him.

Did I say to him everything that I was supposed to?”

 

Since that experience so many years ago, I have lost several Christian friends, mentors and family loved ones: mom and dad, Pastor Ray Shelton and his wife Jean, Ray “Harty-Ho” Hartman, Phyl Brittingham, Doyle Thomas, Bill Phillips, Dick Hilenski, Leon Price, Bob Staton, Jean Stanley, Mike Shumway, Sam Gilmore, and so many others whose names escape me.

 

Many years ago, even before Chuck’s loss, I had a vision of sorts about the passing of a close Christian friend Rodney VanHoose. I saw him walking around a pillar in the heavenlies. The pillar –a special creation of God—was so big that it took Rodney several days, if not years, to walk around it. I saw Rodney talking to an endless sea of souls as he walked around the pilar, a myriad of people, spending an eternity of listening to stories of God’s faithfulness in their earthly lives.

In the distance, I could see crowds of believers gathered around the throne of the Lamb—bathed in the energy of God’s light—singing praise and worship songs. I could even smell the sweet savor of the prayers of the saints.

I am so glad I will see Chuck on the other side, his limbs strong once again, his eyes bright and full of life, his encouraging smile, and his laugh so vibrant once again.       

 

My good friend and former fund-raiser for Alice Lloyd College, Ony Leonard, has long since passed. I can still vividly recall how Ony used to tell my college classes that each student was like a pebble thrown into the vast pond of life, each creating their own special ripples. No one could know whose lives, or at what times, those ripples would affect others.

Life is short my friends.

And growing shorter …

Diligently seek the Lord Jesus Christ and what He has provided for you in the Atonement.

And create as many ripples as you can.  

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