On June 14, 2007, at age 87, after 63 years of marriage to
evangelist Billy Graham,– Ruth Bell Graham died. As someone not close to the
family or to Rev. Graham’s organization, it was just plain uplifting for me to
read of the homespun humor, refreshing realism, and resolute dedication of Mrs.
Graham. She had an amazing commitment to her Savior, her children, her
grandchildren, her friends and relatives, the disadvantaged, her husband’s
ministry, and the worldwide church of the living God.
Billy and Ruth graduated from college in Illinois
together in June 1943 and were married on Friday, August 13, 1943, in North Carolina. An
obituary continues the story:
Returning from their honeymoon,
Ruth fell sick, but instead of calling to cancel his preaching engagement in Ohio to stay by her
bedside, Billy checked Ruth into a hospital and kept the speaking appointment,
sending her a telegram and a box of candy.
So began her adjustment to her
husband’s intense calling to preach, which meant extended times of separation.
Yet “I’d rather have Bill part-time,” she often said, “than anybody else
full-time.” …
When Billy warmly recalled his
meeting with the president of Mexico—”He
even embraced me”—Ruth quickly added, “Oh, Bill, don’t be flattered. He did
that to Castro, too.”
Yet she never tried to place
herself in the spotlight: “That’s not my wad of gum.” …
Perhaps the best assessment of her
contributions, however, came from the late T. W. Wilson, a boyhood friend of
Billy’s who became a trusted member of his evangelistic team.
“There would have been no Billy
Graham as we know him today had it not been for Ruth,” he said. “They have been
a great team.” [1]
But I wondered: How would the loss of Ruth be for Mr. Graham
himself? What would he himself do to get on with life? In a couple of chapters
in his book, Nearing Home (written in
2011 at age 92), he told us. [2]
In part two of this online journal, we ask: when gnawing aloneness and aching grief
have become our companions because of the death of someone close, what
practical counsel may we follow? Billy’s example is a beacon that illumines
the pathway ahead. I’m expressing the basic points in my own words, but I’m
using his superb illustrations.
• Why did my dear one
have to be the one to die first? Billy told how the epitaph to his wife’s
grave had been selected (p 95):
Long before she became bedridden,
she was driving along a highway through a construction site. Carefully following
the detours and mile-by-mile cautionary signs, she came to the last one that
said, “End of Construction. Thank you for your patience.” She arrived home,
chuckling and telling the family about the posting. “When I die,” she said, “I
want that engraved on my stone.”
… we appreciated the truth she conveyed
through those few words. Every human being is under construction from
conception to death. Each life is made up of mistakes and learning, waiting and
growing, practicing patience and being persistent. At the end of
construction—death—we have completed the process.
If God hasn’t taken us, he has a reason. There is a purpose for
us no matter how basic. There is a ministry for us no matter how small. Find
that purpose and fulfill it. Discover that ministry and do it. God’s the
superintendent. We are the workers. “Let us run with endurance the race that is
set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who
for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and
is seated at the right hand of the throne of God” (Heb 12:1b-2).
• How deeply I still
miss my dear one. Ruth died in 2007 and in 2011 Billy penned these lines (p
99):
As I write this it has been four years
since Ruth went home to be with the Lord. I feel her loss more keenly now. Not
a day passes that I don’t imagine her walking through my study door or us
sitting together on our porch as we did so often, holding hands as the sun set
over the mountaintops.
Moping and morbidity are wrong-headed.
But a love that rightly cherishes someone dear is good and proper.
•
Look ahead. There’s a bright day coming. Along with his sense of loss, Rev.
Graham notes (p 100):
Mingled with my
grief is a new sense of expectancy—the certain knowledge that someday soon the
Lord will come for me also, and before long Ruth and I will be reunited in
Heaven. More than ever, I look forward to that day!
In her long separations from her
husband, Ruth Bell Graham composed a poem, “Closing Doors,” that also speaks to
the separation that death brings:
We live a time secure;
Beloved and loving, sure.
It cannot last for long, then
the goodbyes come again - again.
Like a small death... the closing
of a door.
One looks ahead, not back - never
back... only before
And Joy will come again... warm
and secure.
If only for the now, laughing we
endure.
•
Resolve, though by fits and starts, to take the way forward. The word
“grief” is related to the French word “grève,” meaning a heavy burden. The
separation brought by death can make life very difficult and burdensome, and
there are no easy answers or simple solutions. But there is a way forward.
Billy Graham has done it, and we can walk that same path of faith, hope, and
love. Billy told us what he does: I accept my feelings, I look toward the
future, I help others, I keep in touch with friends, and I turn to God (pp
101-108).
•
Remember to keep first things first. C.S. Lewis explained the futility of
not doing so:
The woman who
makes a dog the centre of her life loses, in the end, not only her human
usefulness and dignity but even the proper pleasure of dog-keeping. The man who
makes alcohol his chief good loses not only his job but his palate and all
power of enjoying the earlier (and only pleasurable) levels of intoxication.
It is a glorious
thing to feel for a moment or two that the whole meaning of the universe is
summed up in one woman [or one man]—glorious so long as other duties and
pleasures keep tearing you away from her [or him]…. [But, by and by, you will
discover this principle:]
every preference
of a small good to a great, or partial good to a total good, involves the loss
of the small or partial good for which the sacrifice is made…. You can’t get
second things by putting them first. You get second things only by putting
first things first. [3]
And what is of first importance? The
crucial thing, Billy Graham said in Nearing
Home, is spelled out in the last will and testament of renowned banker,
J.P. Morgan, who died in 1913 and whose will was published in the New York Times (p 68). In part, Morgan
had written to his children (Times
5/20/1913):
I commit my soul into the hands of
my Saviour, in full confidence that ― having redeemed it and washed it in His
most precious blood ― He will present it faultless before the throne of my
Heavenly Father.
[1] Marshall Shelley, “Ruth
Graham Dies at 87,” Christianity Today
(web-only), June 14, 2007
http://www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2007/juneweb-only/124-43.0.html?paging=off
[2] Billy Graham, Nearing Home. Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 2011.
[3]
C.S. Lewis, “First and Second Things,” in God
in the Dock: Essays on Theology and Ethics (Eerdmans, 1994), p. 280. Cited
by http://thegospelcoalition.org/blogs/justintaylor/2010/07/28/the-first-things-first-principle/
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