When Dad Started Running Victory Laps

I Corinthians 15:53 - 57

“For this perishable must put on the imperishable, and this mortal must put on immortality. But when this perishable puts on the imperishable, and this mortal puts on immortality, then will come about the saying that is written: “Death has been swallowed up in victory. Where, O Death, is your victory? Where, O Death, is your sting?” The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the Law; but thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.”

Friday, September 23, 1988 will forever be a day of victory. When immortality won over mortality. When life won over death. It was on this day that Dad started running.

On Wednesday of that week, something alarming was going on with Dad.  We found Dad was nearly unresponsive and in pain. His eyes were closed, his speech was slurred and we knew something was terribly wrong.  Minutes earlier, Dad had complained of an intense headache and quickly digressed into what proved to be his last hours with us.

He was transported by ambulance to the University of Tennessee/Bowld Hospital in downtown Memphis, and after a quick assessment, we were given the news we had dreaded receiving for years.  This was a brain hemorrhage, and we knew that this type of bleed was the most serious and potentially deadly.

I helped restrain him during a brain scan and it was nearly impossible to hold Dad as his body shook intensely from the brain damage. It was obvious that we were losing Dad quickly. In order to calm him, the doctors intubated him, and while they were able to stabilize Dad, we knew that the end was near. Two days later, on Friday, September 23, 1988, Dad’s longtime hematologist pronounced him dead. 

Even when you have been prepared for death of a loved one for years, the shock and grief are intense and sometimes numbing to the point of not knowing how to move forward with funeral plans, etc.  However, Dad had let us know some of his wishes for his end-of-life decisions. He wanted the funeral to be full of praise to Jesus and he wanted the gospel of Jesus to be presented. Longtime friend and pastor, Bob Carpenter, preached a gospel message, shared the plan of salvation and we sang Victory in Jesus.

And it was there, in that grieving moment during the service, I realized that death had just lost the battle. Life won and Dad was running victory laps in heaven at the feet of Jesus.

It is with great joy that I can tell you that Dad fought the fight of faith to the very end. Dad’s last journal entry is dated Tuesday, September 20, 1988, just 24 hours before his final hemorrhage. Dad’s journal entries reveal that he was incredibly lonely during the daytime and he fought against depression and loneliness. However, Dad kept fighting. His writing on this day details his desire to write his life story and is a testimony to his fighting spirit. (I hope this blog series is something he would be proud of as I’ve tried to share his story of breaking the cycle of generational unbelief.) But there is something else in the journal that captured my attention. Dad’s last words on paper were this, “Well, I haven’t used my time correctly tonight and much I’ve wanted to say, I skirted around. So, for now, good night, sweet dreams and hope to write more and better tomorrow.”

Dad was expecting a tomorrow on earth to write and glorify God, but his “tomorrow” became the final sprint to the finish line of his journey of breaking the cycle of unbelief. By faith, Dad came to Jesus, by faith, Dad lived for Jesus and by faith, Dad walked – or, as I believe, RAN - victoriously into heaven to see Jesus. Belief met Glory face to face!

There are so many dramatic details from those last hours that I am choosing not to share.  Dad’s life doesn’t need any further sensationalism.  Instead of every detail, I’m going to leave you with a testimony of how he lived his life from the words of my mom, Caryl Easterday Smith.  She called him “Sonny.”  Enjoy. Rejoice. And be encouraged to fight your fight, to finish your race in victory, breaking any cycle of generational unbelief in your life.

Sonny and I met when my cousin, Frank, invited him to a party at my home during my senior year of high school. I knew that he was a “free-bleeder,” but all I understood about it at the time was “if he cuts himself, it could be very serious.”  I later learned what a misconception that was.

One day, I came home from school and was surprised to find Sonny there having coffee with my mother.  He was there to ask permission to ask me on a date. Our first dates were to school football games and oh, how much fun we had!  On our third date, he talked to me about hemophilia and I learned that internal bleeding was much more serious than a cut would be.  And so began our journey together.

We were married in the summer of 1956 and God gave us a very loving home together.  Coming from a broken home, Sonny had learned to depend on Jesus for everything. He wrote, “I walk with Christ’s arm on my shoulder.”  I loved Jesus, but I had relied on my parents through the years.  We began to learn together how to fully trust Jesus, but also rely on each other to share life’s joys and pain. 

As we journeyed into the world of having a family, we were told that it was very risky for us to have children.  A daughter would be a carrier of the disease and any sons she would have would likely have the disease. If we had a son, the disease would not be passed on in our family.  And we believed that God called us to have a family, and we prayed for His will and for the disease to be eradicated in our family line.  God blessed us with a son, David, and we believed it was God’s gift that the disease would not be carried on through the next generations. David and Sonny spent lots of time together in Bible study, talking through life and just enjoying each other’s company.  What a blessing it was to have such a close and loving relationship between us all.

We talk so much about the difficult days, but there were good days, too. It’s good to remember the fun times!  Winter snowball fights, sledding, a trip to California to see relatives, Nashville with the Webb’s, hot summer days at the sandy beaches of Maywood, Dogpatch, Passion Play, endless games of rummy, jig saw puzzles and so much more.  God was so good in all these times together.

Just 8 years into life together, my daddy died, and we were heartbroken.  During this time, Sonny’s heath began to decline.  He experienced a broken hip, a complete body cast, severe internal bleeding, 300 pints of whole blood transfusions over a two-week period, teeth extractions (very dangerous), kidney bleeds and another broken hip.   Job losses followed all through these years as most employers could not bear the expense of so many days off and the strain on their insurance.  I specifically remember one early morning on my way to work crying out to God, “God please help us, we are hanging on by a thread.”  And very clearly, His gentle voice answered in my spirit saying, “But it is my thread, my Scarlet Thread.”  God answered and showed Himself faithful in so many ways during the years to come, even through hardships.

The next years brought my breast cancer and radical surgery.  I’ve been cancer free for 48 years now.  God brought Sonny a good and stable job and some peace for a few years.  Eventually, the hemophilia began to take its toll on his body.  His joints began to wear out from years of bleeding, and poor circulation caused skin problems and high blood pressure.  He was forced to take early retirement and was confined to a hospital bed at home for most of the years after that. 

Sonny was a great prayer warrior and Bible teacher, and he continued to carry this on from our home.  Many friends came to visit often and he loved those times of sweet fellowship. He was so happy when David and Gina married in 1988, just a few weeks before he went home to Jesus. 

In September of 1988 a brain bleed ended his suffering.  Oh, how I still miss him.  Through this journey, we often called on the name of Jesus as we remembered these comforting words.  “Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, there is something about that name.”  I still call on His name today, as I run my own race, carry forward the cycle of belief, and eagerly anticipate seeing Jesus and Sonny again one day!

Isaiah 50:10b 

Let the one who walks in the dark, who has no light, trust in the name of the Lord and rely on their God.