Life Lessons My Father-In-Law Taught Me (Ecclesiastes 7:1-2)


God willing, January 19, 2023, is a day that I will never forget. That is the day that my father-in-law was born again. Allow me to go back and tell you the story.

I had known my father-in-law for more than 20 years. He was always a very kind, relatable, and down-to-earth person who could get along with anyone. He also had an uncanny ability to lift people up who felt down and out. I always said that if you didn’t get along with him, then there had to be something wrong with you. Yet, despite his admirable character and all of his outward virtues, on the inside, he had a life philosophy that could be summed up in one sentence: “I’m going to do things my way.” Consequently, over the past twenty years, my wife and I presented the gospel to him countless times. While he was never overly hostile to spiritual matters, in his mind, God was not of first importance.

At the end of the summer of 2022, he began having involuntary weight loss and difficulty swallowing. It turns out his symptoms were due to cancer in his esophagus, the tube that goes from your mouth to your stomach. By the time the diagnosis was formally made in November 2022, the cancer had already spread to many other parts of his body. This meant his cancer was terminal and neither medicine nor surgery could save him; it could only slow the cancer down, give him more time, and make him more comfortable.

Before January 19, 2023, my wife and I realized that our father’s salvation—not his physical health—was of first importance. By God’s grace, he had many people around him who were born again and who were also relentless in love, prayer, evangelism, good works, and simply being present. I remember sending him daily Bible lessons through text on the Book of John. When his vision failed, I sent audio recordings instead. Honestly, there were times when my wife and I felt extreme despair over his salvation because he was so angry, bitter, indifferent to the gospel, and reluctant to even consider that eternity matters more than the present.

Then, in the early morning of January 19, I felt unsettled and couldn’t sleep. It was about four in the morning when I gave up on trying to go to sleep and decided just to get an early start on the day. As usual, I went into the kitchen to warm up some tea. To my surprise, my wife was in the adjacent room, sobbing. I initially thought she had tears of sorrow. I quickly realized she was on the phone, and then she put it on speaker. It is then that my father-in-law said that he felt the full weight of his sins and had seen the folly of doing things his way for so long. He admitted that God’s way is the only way to go. He professed faith in Jesus with the comforting hope that his Redeemer lives and paid the penalty for his sins. He found peace at the feet of Christ, who raised him to new life.

That was a day of joy and celebration, and the tears of gratitude and thanksgiving flowed from the eyes of many. What a joy it was to tell all the fellow members of our local church—who were praying for his salvation along with us—that God had worked another miracle and once again showered grace upon another soul.

I was full of delight on that January morning, and I remain full of gratitude, basking in the excellency and magnificence of a merciful and kind God. I remain full of gladness even though my father-in-law went home to be with the Lord in early March 2023. In the weeks preceding his departure, although his body was frail, he was uncomfortable and in pain, with a smile on his face, he repeatedly said, “I’m going home to see my Father.” And so, although his body has perished, he is still alive. In fact, he is more alive than you and I put together. He is alive right now because he had genuine faith in a God who cannot lie and never goes back on His promises. Jesus said in John 11:25:

I am the resurrection and the life; the one who believes in Me will live, even if he dies.

My father-in-law is missed by his daughters, sons-in-law, grandsons, family, and friends. Yes, we all miss him, but the difference between a godless world that grieves and the Christian who grieves is that he or she grieves with hope (I Thessalonians 4:13).

The same gracious God who gifted us with my father-in-law is also the same God, who, out of love, decided it was the proper time to bring his child home. When I thus consider God’s goodness in all things, I began to meditate and ponder as to what sanctifying effect my father-in-law’s death has for me, you, and anyone who experiences the death of a loved one. I am drawn to the teacher’s words in Ecclesiastes 7:1–2, where he writes:

A good name is better than a good ointment, and the day of one’s death is better than the day of one’s birth. It is better to go to a house of mourning than to go to a house of feasting, because that is the end of every man, and the living takes it to heart. (Italics mine)

What the teacher of Ecclesiastes does here is tell us is that yes, people passing away is how life ends in general, but when someone you know or someone you loved dies, the living take it to heart. Meaning, those who remain begin to think about the finality of death and the precious gift of their current vitality. Taking it to heart is thus instructive and wisdom-creating. To neglect the lesson would be foolish. Consequently, wakes, funerals, and tears on a pillow are difficult, but they simultaneously amplify a person’s receptivity to God while muting their receptivity to trivial things that don’t ultimately matter. You begin to see that holding on to some things isn’t worth it because they won’t last. Temporary things can only give you temporary things, and when dealing with the end of every man—death—the experience of it teaches you what is actually trustworthy. Thinking about it this way, it is evident that death does not just destroy; even death creates and urges us to sketch life and light on the canvas of our lives while we still can.

Accordingly, in taking my father-in-law’s death to heart, what wisdom have I mined from the experience? Well, I have learned many lessons, but I have condensed them into five that I will share with you today.

Lesson #1: Seriously meditate on and pray for the biblical instruction to “teach us to number our days.”

In Psalm 90:10–12, Moses writes:

As for the days of our life, they contain seventy years, or if due to strength, eighty years, yet their pride is only trouble and tragedy; for it quickly passes, and we disappear. Who understands the power of Your anger and Your fury, according to the fear that is due You? So teach us to number our days, that we may present to You a heart of wisdom. (Italics mine)

In verse 12, Moses writes, “teach us to number our days.” It is evident that the prophet comprehended that what he had previously taught in this Psalm could not be understood until God first opens the eyes of the mind. So, what Moses now does is turn to prayer so that the Lord will teach a lesson that the individual is incapable of learning by themselves. After all, why would any person pray so that they would know how much time they have? People have no issue with math per se in that they have no difficulty in numbering their wishes, money, likes, or followers. But when a person seriously considers the number of their days, what becomes readily evident is how short their life actually is. What becomes readily evident is that the most valuable natural resource that we have is time, and it becomes exponentially more valuable as time moves on. Why? Because we have less and less of a non-renewable resource. The great John Calvin comments on Psalm 90:12 and writes:

It is surely a monstrous thing that men can measure all distances without themselves, that they know how many feet the moon is distant from the center of the earth, what space there is between the different planets; and, in short, that they can measure all the dimensions both of heaven and earth; while yet they cannot number threescore and ten years in their own case. It is therefore evident that Moses had good reason to beseech God for the ability to perform what requires a wisdom which is very rare among mankind.

When a Christian prays to God and beseeches Him to “teach us to number our days,” the gift in response is wisdom. With that wisdom, it is then that we truly have the eyes of our hearts open to see the brevity of human life. That wisdom consequently motivates a person to wake up every day with intentionality, a purpose, and a plan. The opposite of wisdom is foolishness, and what is a fool but one who doesn’t number his days and thus wavers to and fro in this life without a clearly defined end? God-gifted wisdom informs us that the purpose of this transitory, time-constrained state is the eternal kingdom of God; the King, Christ, is our ultimate purpose. So, each and every day, aspire after the prize of your heavenly calling. We don’t have time to waste because tomorrow is not guaranteed and you don’t know how many tomorrows you have left.

My father-in-law lived just short of seventy years (67). He was first diagnosed with cancer in November 2022. By March 2023, he was gone. In December 2022, when he knew his cancer was terminal, he told my wife, “I just want one more year.” We both knew that was a wish that would not materialize, cognizant that, at that time, in the best-case scenario, he only had a few months left. My father-in-law was blessed with the gift to have a rough idea of how much time he had left. Others may not be the recipients of such grace, and their time may come quickly and without warning. Let us therefore pray for the Lord to “teach us to number our days” and carry on as if we have kingdom-work to attend to. Remember: right now is a gift, which is why it is called the present.

Lesson #2: Health is abnormal in a fallen, broken world.

Speaking as a medical doctor, I am well aware of the common ailments that afflict people. Disease is not pleasurable; it makes us miserable, and when we do get sick, we pray to get well as fast as possible. God knows that sickness pains us, which is why there are specific instructions in the Bible to assist and pray for those who are unwell. For example, James 5:14–15 says:

Is anyone among you sick? Then he must call for the elders of the church and they are to pray over him, anointing him with oil in the name of the Lord; and the prayer of faith will restore the one who is sick, and the Lord will raise him up, and if he has committed sins, they will be forgiven him.

Yet, what the Christian must realize is that we live in a world that is fallen. We do not live in a sinless realm but in a realm that is corrupted by sin. As a result, in our daily lives, we experience both the spiritual and the physical consequences of sin: our DNA is tarnished, our bodies decay, and the inevitable result of life is death. The point, beloved, is that because we live in a sin-afflicted world, sickness and disease are normal; health and wellness are abnormal. What ought not to surprise us is that we or our loved ones get sick; what ought to surprise us is that—considering all the wanton rebellion against God in the world—we don’t get sick more often. What explains that apparent dichotomy is the mercy of God.

Consequently, if you do get sick, do not be flabbergasted. If you are healthy, then use your health to praise God, for His grace is sustaining you. In Psalm 103:1–5, David says:

Bless the Lord, my soul, and all that is within me, bless His holy name. Bless the Lord, my soul, and do not forget any of His benefits; who pardons all your guilt, who heals all your diseases; who redeems your life from the pit, who crowns you with favor and compassion; who satisfies your years with good things, so that your youth is renewed like the eagle. (italics mine)

The question arises: Cognizant that sickness is rampant, why doesn’t God answer all prayers to heal diseases? After all, doesn’t the Bible refer to God as all-powerful and a healer (cf. Psalm 41:3, 147:3; Jeremiah 17:14, 33:6)? Truly, God is a healer, but nowhere in the Bible will you find God promising to heal all your bodily diseases right now. God’s intent was never to provide perfect health to all of His children on earth, in bodies that were always meant to be temporary and would perish regardless. Instead, God promises to do something greater and to bless all His children with perfect, eternal health in imperishable resurrected bodies. Beloved, do not be fooled: in Paradise, there will be no sickness, disease, or death, and at the end of history, God will fulfill all His promises for ultimate healing. And of what value is it to you to have your body healed now when your soul is not right with God?

When my wife and I first learned of my father-in-law’s cancer diagnosis, we prayed for his cancer to be cured. But, when he was first diagnosed, he was still not saved. I quickly realized—and I told my father-in-law this—that the worst thing that could happen is that God would heal his body and then he would go back to a life in which he was the center of the universe. I told him that one of the best things that could happen was if God allowed his body to perish but saved his soul. Praise be to God that His grace abounded. My father-in-law’s body may have perished because of cancer, but any believer’s hope is never in the temporary healing of a perishable body but in an imperishable resurrected body that is immune to all sicknesses and diseases.

Lesson #3: Consider making concrete decisions about your end-of-life care now so your family doesn’t have to.

This lesson is quick and practical. It also tends to apply mostly to those who are in the fall and winter seasons of their lives.

If you make decisions now about what your wishes would be in case of a catastrophic illness later, it removes a huge burden from your family: it excuses them from deciding for you in the event that you can’t decide for yourself. Many Christians may feel differently about things like advance directives or health care proxies, but consider: would you rather make tough decisions for your future self in the present while you are well and thinking clearly or have family make big, quick decisions for you while under duress? Would it be more sanctifying or more traumatic for them to live with the decisions they make for you?

Let’s face facts: some people handle stress better than others. Some are activated by trials, rendering them invaluable resources. Others are crippled by emotion and paralyzed by fear, rendering them useless. And let us also not forget that when a family member is critically ill, it may not be one person calling the shots but many. Things can thus get complicated, and there is a nagging temptation to blame family if some think others made the “wrong decision.” Confusion can be avoided if you make your wishes clear beforehand.

Proverbs 16:3 says, “Commit your works to the Lord, and your plans will be established.” Only God is sovereign. Hence, no man can make a foolproof, concrete plan for a future that doesn’t exist yet. But they can think biblically and prayerfully about their end-of-life care, considering the family and friends that will likely be near.

Lesson #4: Respect the bodily autonomy of the one who is dying.

In I Corinthians 9:27, the apostle Paul talks about “[disciplining] my body.” In I Corinthians 6:18, he talks about a person “sinning against his own body.” The Bible therefore establishes the principle that while every person is not a law onto themselves, they do possess a certain degree of God-given autonomy over how they use their natural body. Yes, we live in a fallen world, but the ideal is for each person to use their bodily autonomy for God-honoring ends.

How this applies to end-of-life decisions is simple: ultimately, what happens to someone’s body is their own decision to make. Hence, I may disagree with the decisions they have come to, but I was never given the authority to make said decision(s) for them. So, when a person is making end-of-life healthcare decisions, while they are free to decide, they are also free to inherit the consequences of their decision, both good and bad.

A point came in my father-in-law’s care when it was evident that modern medicine could offer nothing curative. The only thing it could offer was more time and possibly some transient comfort. As such, certain medical procedures—like taking pictures of the inside of his body or checking up on hardware that was placed in his stomach—became futile because they would not change the ultimate course of the disease. Now, in my mind, were these endeavors pointless? Yes. But was it my decision to either have or forego these procedures? No. It became evident that when fighting a war for life, some small battles simply aren’t worth fighting. I considered how I would respond if the roles were switched, and I was the one who had to negotiate with family about end-of-life healthcare decisions. It is then that my eyes were opened to the reality of respecting the bodily autonomy of the one who is dying.

Different Christians will land on either side of the fence when it comes to receiving care for catastrophic illnesses. Some will never get surgery, chemotherapy, or radiation, while others won’t think twice about doing everything possible. When it comes to what course of action a person should take, I do not think there is a universal biblical answer that applies to every Christian in all health situations. I do think it all depends on a case-by-case basis cognizant of all the variables. For example, if I was diagnosed with a possibly terminal illness, what I would choose to do now—as a 42-year-old husband and father of two young boys—would differ significantly if I was an 82-year-old man with the majority of my life behind me. I am unable to think about myself by myself; I must also consider the individuals I am responsible for.

I know some Christians who use the argument that they will never receive medical treatment and will instead press on “by faith.” Their logic is that “What God wills will happen, so I don’t need natural (as opposed to supernatural) treatment.” My response to that type of thinking would be, “If you trust God, then why don’t you trust what He has provided to the world by common grace: namely, modern medical treatment?” “Would God provide remedies for the unregenerate alone to the exclusion of His own children?” “Are you consistent in your logic in rejecting all natural methods of treatment in that you don’t ever take an aspirin for a headache or don’t ever use a band-aid for a bleeding wound?” I do not think the absolute rejection of all medical treatments in all situations is “of the faith” at all, but either fear or foolishness masquerading as faith.

The apostle Paul once told Timothy to use a little wine for his weak stomach and frequent ailments (I Timothy 5:23). Meaning what? That it is perfectly biblical to use man-made and natural remedies to heal natural problems. After all, God is the One who made nature, and He is the ultimate cause of all healing regardless of the means.

The opposite of the person who refuses to get any treatment is the person who wants to do everything conceivable. This mere desire for bodily wellness is morally neutral but can become either sinful or virtuous depending on intent. What I mean is that some may have such a lust for biological life, they will do anything in order to extend and/or preserve their lives. Yet as Christians, we understand that this life isn’t actually life, and when we die, that is when real life begins. That is not meant to minimize or lessen the value of anyone’s earthly existence. But it does highlight the point that it is possible to desire earthly things more than heavenly things. This can thus compel a person to hold on to right now so tightly, they lose sight of eternity. This all circles back to what was said before: that when dealing with end-of-life decisions, everyone is called to think biblically, on a case-by-case basis, cognizant of all the variables involved. Before my father-in-law was regenerated, he frequently lamented over the limited time he had and zealously sought third, fourth, and fifth opinions, longing for someone just to tell him, “We can fix this.” After he was regenerated, he frequently said with a smile on his face that “God is ridding me of all my natural possessions so I can go home.”

For the terminally ill, another pressing issue to consider is how treatment will potentially generate the quantity of time versus the quality of time. In his final weeks, my father-in-law spent the bulk of his waking hours either in pain, uncomfortable, or both. Yes, if he had chosen to do more chemo or radiation, that would have extended his time, but what would his quality of life have been? So exhausted that he would sleep all day? Organizing his schedule primarily around procedures and doctor’s visits? In the beginning, he chose to do all the recommended chemotherapy and radiation treatments. In the end, he chose to forego all further treatments and to stay at home where he was comfortable, in the immediate company of his family and friends. He chose quality over quantity.

Lesson #5: For the Christian, death is not a time to give up but to glorify God.

It is interesting that in the Book of Philippians, Paul thought that he may die (Philippians 1:18–21), but the overall tone of the epistle is one of encouragement and to stand firm in the face of persecution, regardless of circumstances. Philippians is saturated with joy and thanksgiving in the Lord. In fact, many regard Philippians as the happiest book in the entire Bible. The point is that Paul had a suspicion that the end was near, yet he used his time and words in jail to exalt Christ and encourage his fellow brothers and sisters in the Lord. When Paul wrote Philippians, he was relatively comfortable, living in a rented house (Acts 28:30); in contrast, when the apostle wrote II Timothy, he was languishing in a cold dungeon (4:13) and chained like a common criminal (1:16, 2:9). Even more, in II Timothy, Paul knew with certainty he was going to die (II Timothy 4:6–8). And what is the overall tone of II Timothy? It is one of strong encouragement to Timothy, who was a leader in one of many churches being persecuted under Nero. Consequently, the apostle exhorts his spiritual son to guard the gospel (1:14), persevere in it (3:14), keep preaching it (4:2), and, if necessary, suffer for it (1:8, 2:3). II Timothy is the last Pauline epistle, and the apostle uses his final words to tell Timothy, “the gospel is of first importance.”

What’s the point? That in his final days—although Paul was not suffering from a terminal disease but with knowledge of his pending execution—Paul used his life as a vessel to proclaim the supremacy of Christ, the importance of His Word, and to encourage others in the faith. Paul understood that his time was about to be over, but the kingdom of God is bigger than one apostle. Paul knew that God uses many different people at many different times and although men may die, kingdom work continues. And so, with legacy in mind, Paul keeps his mind on heaven and equips those who will follow after him. In fact, in II Timothy 4:6–8, Paul equates his execution—by decapitation—to a drink offering to the Lord. What does he mean by that? He uses the language of the Old Testament temple rituals (Exodus 29:40; Leviticus 23:13) that required a drink offering to accompany a sacrifice. Paul thus equates the shedding of his blood for the sake of the gospel as a final act of worship. Hence, even in death, Paul does not dread his passing but instead seeks to glorify the Lord through it. We can therefore see that Paul is telling Timothy, “I am willing to die for the gospel, and you must be willing to live for it.”

The summation of all of this is that Paul didn’t see his death as about him. His focus was not narrow, inward, or on himself. It was heavenward, toward Christ and focused on God’s people. Paul looked back with confidence and forward with hope. He thus used his final letter to uplift and build up a man who perhaps was feeling the pressure on many sides. Imagine this: Paul is going to die, but he encourages Timothy, the one who is free and not going to be executed. Thus, for the Christian, death is not a time to give up but to take responsibility and glorify God. Additionally, it is not to be missed that Paul could pour himself out into someone else because he had a spiritual son in Timothy. Paul had a spiritual legacy because he spent his days building one. If one were to begin thinking about legacy at the end, it’s already too late.

As I remember and meditate on my father-in-law’s death, I realize that God providentially ordered things precisely this way for reasons my mind still does not comprehend. Yet as I ponder, it is proper that we all reflect on the apostle Paul’s closing words to the world. Let our prayer be that when the time comes, we can do so with confidence, boldness, and zeal. Here are Paul’s closing words to Timothy in II Timothy 4:1–8:

I solemnly exhort you in the presence of God and of Christ Jesus, who is to judge the living and the dead, and by His appearing and His kingdom: preach the word; be ready in season and out of season; correct, rebuke, and exhort, with great patience and instruction. For the time will come when they will not tolerate sound doctrine; but wanting to have their ears tickled, they will accumulate for themselves teachers in accordance with their own desires, and they will turn their ears away from the truth and will turn aside to myths. But as for you, use self-restraint in all things, endure hardship, do the work of an evangelist, fulfill your ministry.

For I am already being poured out as a drink offering, and the time of my departure has come. I have fought the good fight, I have finished the course, I have kept the faith; in the future there is reserved for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will award to me on that day; and not only to me, but also to all who have loved His appearing.

Dr. C. H. E. Sadaphal


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