Easter’s Over, but the Hope of the Resurrection Lives On

“Eleven steps.”

I glanced to the side as I approached the front entrance of the hospital. An elderly man, gaunt and grizzled, climbed the stairs beside me. His faded jeans were cinched together at his waist. A flannel shirt, faded soft, was tucked neatly into his waistband. His leathery skin told me he’d spent years in the sun, and his Army veteran cap told me he’d spent years serving our country.

His eyes were down, focused on the stairs. “I’ve walked up and down these eleven steps thirty-one times. But today’s the last day.” He glanced at the couple to his left, and then at me. “She’s gone home.”

I was hustling up the stairs, in a hurry to visit my dad, who’d been in ICU.

Then I felt the Spirit’s nudge.

Slow down.

I did—so quickly that the woman climbing the stairs behind me swerved.

“That’s wonderful,” I said, matching my steps to his as we entered the atrium. “That she’s going home.”

“It is wonderful,” he said. “For her.” He took a breath, winded perhaps from the climb. “But not for me.” He paused. “Sixty-two years we were married.”

His words settled between us.

“Oh, sir.” I said. “I am so sorry.”

I stopped, and he did too.

“May I pray for you?” I asked, and he nodded, then took off his hat.

“Please do. I shore need it.”

“Tell me your name”

“Leroy,” he said.

“And what was your wife’s name?”

“Mabel.”

“Did she know Jesus, Mr. Leroy?”

For the first time, a hint of a smile tugged at his lips.

“Know Him?” he said. “She loved Him.”

I placed my hand on his shoulder. Through the flannel, I could feel the rounded curves of his bones. We bowed our heads as people swirled around us and the automatic doors swooshed open and shut. In a holy hush, the Spirit of God drew close.

“Father, thank you for giving Mr. Leroy and Mrs. Mabel sixty-two years together. Thank you that she didn’t just know you, she loved You. We know she’s in your presence today, and this is powerful comfort. Thank you for Mr. Leroy’s faithfulness to care for his wife all the days of her life. Now, Lord, please care for him. Comfort him as he grieves, give him strength and courage to face each day. Draw ever closer to him and meet his every need according to your riches in glory. Help him know he’s not alone. In the strong name of Jesus I ask, amen.”

“Amen.”

I looked into his eyes, now moist around the edges and gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze. Another small smile, and we parted.

Alone in the elevator, I drew a shaky breath. “Thank you, Father,” I whispered to the ceiling. The tears I’d blinked back spilled from the corners of my eyes. “Thank you for the hope of the resurrection. For the comfort of your Spirit. And for Jesus, who made it possible for us to live forever—with each other and with you.”

Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will live, even though they die.
John 11:25

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