These past few months have been a struggle with my health. I have spent much of my life preaching, teaching, singing, and going wherever the work called me. Now I am learning how to live at a different pace. That has not been an easy lesson for this country preacher.
Parkinson’s has slowed me down. My walk has become more of a shuffle. My voice is changing, and sometimes I know what I want to say, but the words just will not come out. When you have spent a lifetime using your voice to preach the Word of God and sing His praises, those changes reach deeper than some folks might realize.
Yet the Lord understands the words I cannot get out. He knows what is in my heart before I can put it into a sentence.
“For there is not a word in my tongue, but, lo, O LORD, thou knowest it altogether.” — Psalm 139:4
The numbers connected with my blood cancer have not been good, and the infection in my foot has complicated matters further. My kidneys had been headed toward shutting down, but the latest results have shown improvement. I am thankful for that encouraging turn. There are still serious concerns, but I can thank the Lord for progress while continuing to face the work ahead.
I have become a complicated patient. What may help one part of my body can create trouble somewhere else. Finding the right balance is a major task. I have a team of seven doctors working to keep me alive, and I am grateful for their knowledge, patience, and willingness to work through the difficulties of my care.
I thank God for the people who have studied, trained, and devoted their lives to helping the sick. Their work has become very personal to me. Each appointment, each treatment, and each careful decision reminds me how much I depend upon the help of others.
Alongside that medical care are the many prayers offered for me every day. Some come from people I see regularly. Others come from folks who live far away. There are likely prayers being offered that I will never know about this side of heaven.
It is humbling to realize that people pause in the middle of their own troubles and responsibilities to bring my name before the Lord. They have burdens of their own, yet they make room for mine.
“Bear ye one another’s burdens, and so fulfil the law of Christ.” — Galatians 6:2
I have preached that verse many times. These days, I am experiencing what it means to have others help carry my burden.
A message asking how I am doing, a word of encouragement, or someone saying, “Preacher, I am praying for you,” means more than I can adequately express. Those simple acts remind me that I am cared for. I am truly blessed.
I will be honest: there are days when I grow weary. I miss being able to move freely and speak easily. I would like to accomplish more than my body sometimes allows. Faith does not require me to pretend those struggles are easy. It gives me somewhere to take them.
The Apostle Paul heard these words from the Lord:
“My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness.” — 2 Corinthians 12:9
I am learning to lean upon that promise in ordinary moments—when I rise from a chair, when I walk across a room, when my voice falters, and when another medical report arrives. I need the Lord’s grace for the day I am living.
There is still work on my heart. There are things I want to write, truths I want to teach, and people I want to encourage. I have family to love and memories to share. My pace has changed, and I am learning to recognize the opportunities that remain within reach.
“God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.” — Psalm 46:1
That word present means a great deal to me. The Lord is with me in the examination room, during the long night, and through the uncertainty of what comes next.
To every person praying for me, thank you. To my doctors and those helping with my care, thank you. To my family and friends who walk through these days with me, thank you. You have helped me understand more deeply how precious it is to be loved and how much strength there is in faithful companionship.
This old country preacher is moving a little slower these days. Sometimes the steps shuffle, and sometimes the words hesitate. But I still have reason to give thanks, and I still have a testimony to share.
“It is of the LORD’S mercies that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not. They are new every morning: great is thy faithfulness.” — Lamentations 3:22–23
Whatever tomorrow brings, I am grateful for the mercy that has met me today. I remain in the Lord’s hands.
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