The Last Enemy: A Personal Reflection on Christ & Calamity
by Harold L. Senkbeil
I hate death. Early that grim morning my wife died I told my closest friend and confidant: “I wish I was more fluent in profanity; I have a few choice words for the devil.”
“Until death parts us” Jane and I pledged each other one bright September day more than fifty years ago. True, there were some heartaches along the way, but we shared a lot of joys as well. Memories of those joys helped us when the going got tough—recent years weren’t much fun. Jane lived with constant pain for several decades. Gradually she lost mobility and bodily functions. Her last fourteen months she was confined to bed on home hospice care. Yet she never lost her lively wit, her gentle spirit, her feisty good humor, her quiet but firm confidence in God. Her patience put me to shame; it was my honor to serve as her caregiver throughout.
Those fourteen months were not horrible by any means. True, our lives were turned upside down as strangers took over parts of our private lives. God bless the hospice care team. But before long many of those strangers became friends. In all honesty, some grew to be part of our extended family. But the cumulative experience was surreal, like slogging through a swamp.
In the early days of the pandemic Lexham asked me to write a book on Christ’s consolations in the face of human tragedy. Christ and Calamity: Gratitude in the Darkest Valley appeared in 2020. Little did I know then the book would take on a life of its own within our household just a few months later.
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