I would often ask a coworker, “How is your wife doing?” Before saying anything past a long drawn out “OH,” and a sigh “you know”; there is a telling glint in his eye that means more than words.  A small deep glint at the core encrusted within weary, torn and sad eyes. The glint matches the smile on his face and humor held in check by 3 hours of sleep a night. “We pray for you often;” I say. “We know and feel it” he says, and we go about our work.

Sometimes there is a Bond of Brotherhood that defies depth and definition. Care giving pain haunts us. It’s hard. Lots of people have pain. Awful pain. It’s normal to just survive it the best we can, hoping for better days. As hard as it is, there is more than just a dark side to pain. There is a side that produces my coworkers steely eye glint. The eye of an overcomer. The Aurora Borealis of glints in an eye.

It’s a choice. Pain, especially ongoing never-ending pain, causes people to pick a path. Some of us go numb for a while, retreating into a shell. We play the “poor me” card. Some wave a big flag and call attention to all their woes. Some even play the “send me money” card. There is a whole deck of personal reaction cards. I want to tell you about our friends who live differently in their pain than most. I will call them Mr. and Mrs. B.

Mrs. B’s story

Mrs. B has had a degenerative disease for many years which has led to her body not working correctly on many fronts. She is bedridden and can sit in a wheelchair sometimes when seeing doctors and such. Her pain is so bad she chips her teeth from clenching her jaw. A mouth guard is now needed. Her pain triggers a PTSD type situation where she does not recognize her husband for time periods. Mr. B is the main caregiver as well as husband and is totally committed to seeing through his vows “for better or worse.” Mr. B has long hair and a long ponytail (from the old days) that he will never cut off as Mrs. B can only be convinced that Mr. B is really her husband if she feels his ponytail. For some reason his ponytail resets her mind to know “this is her husband”. Mr. B gets about 3 hours of sleep a night after keeping any sharp objects away from his wife, you know… in case she thinks he is a stranger about to do harm. God, humor and friends keep them going, mostly God. I asked our company to hire him and let him leave and come back as often as he needs for his wife. Every company needs a Mr. B. I was privileged to be his boss for a while, even though he fell asleep in most meetings.

. Mrs B seems to know things before they happen because of her unusual walk with God. Early one Sunday morning Mrs. B felt “weighed” to pray for our pastor. She did not know he would have to quit in the middle of his sermon and ask our associate pastor to step in and finish. This was her normal. If trusting God were a national sport, she would be in the top 10. Seeds grown in the fertile soil of pain nurtured by walking with God.

Mrs. B often had her doctor in tears because of her unusual reaction to all the bad news about her body’s downward progression. She assured her doctor that she was really OK because in the big picture she knew where she was going and life here is but a blip on the screen of eternity. She has that glint in her eye that is physically real. I believe God gave this couple a glint connected to eternity for all who cared to see.

The hundreds letters of encouragement by Mrs. B to missionaries, scores of college students and others in the community that have needed prayer have waned over the years. The ability to host a small group in their home was gone. A silent unseen spiritual warrior gaining more strength in the heavenly realm as the physical slips away. Someone who’s prayers get answered except for her own pain. Who does this? Actually, there are many stories, many silent lives strong in faith and weak in body. Many mighty warriors living off the worlds grid. Mrs. B was assured deep within her soul, by God, that she will someday have her body redeemed. Our middle daughter with Spina Bifida daughter is another. You may know someone like this. Should we not all have this faith and assurance in the depth of our being? Should we not all “Get a Glint”?

Update: Mrs. B went home to be with her Jesus a while ago. In all her pain she finished well. Watching, I am sad and in awe at a life lived way beyond her bedridden bounds. We all get a conclusion. Bye for now friend, I will see you at the gate. Final sunset, silent taps.

  We know that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time.  Not only so, but we ourselves, who have the first fruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for our adoption to sonship, the redemption of our bodies.  For in this hope, we were saved. But hope that is seen is no hope at all. Who hopes for what they already have? (Romans 8:22-24)

Gary