THE SHEPHERD’S CORNER

Another child of God has just come home. Lita Rankin, the sister of our brother Robert Taroreh slipped into eternity at 3:55 pm Friday, November 6. She had fought a good fight. For over ten long years she battled cancer that slowly ravaged her body. Every time she seemed to be on the losing end, she bounced back. God’s time had not come. But, on Friday God’s time had finally come. THE SHEPHERD’S CORNER

Another child of God has just come home. Lita Rankin, the sister of our brother Robert Taroreh slipped into eternity at 3:55 pm Friday, November 6. She had fought a good fight. For over ten long years she battled cancer that slowly ravaged her body. Every time she seemed to be on the losing end, she bounced back. God’s time had not come. But, on Friday God’s time had finally come.

Last week I had the chance to spend some time with her husband, Pierre, at the hospital. We had lunch together and talked about the time frame that the doctor had given her—about two weeks. Pierre cried. He was heart-broken. She, whom he loved, was about to be taken from him. The reality had begun to set in that this time it was for real: Lita would really go!

I told him that I admired him for standing by Lita all these years. I imagined how difficult it must be for him to see his wife suffer so much pain and for so long. Ken Tada, the husband of Joni Eareckson, a paraplegic, penned his feelings upon seeing her suffer, “. . . it was devastating to see Joni suffer. To watch her struggle to breathe. To see her face contorted with pain.” It is heart-rending.

The sick have to bear the physical pain but the caretakers have to bear the emotional pain. But, despite the pain, the caretakers have to remain strong. They cannot appear weak because they know their loved ones are helplessly depending on them. And one more thing: The sick might not be afraid of going, but the caretakers are usually afraid to be left alone.

To the caretakers let me say this to you, “God knows your pain.” It is deep—very deep. But, His hands are long enough to touch it.

Pastor Paul

Last week I had the chance to spend some time with her husband, Pierre, at the hospital. We had lunch together and talked about the time frame that the doctor had given her—about two weeks. Pierre cried. He was heart-broken. She, whom he loved, was about to be taken from him. The reality had begun to set in that this time it was for real: Lita would really go!

I told him that I admired him for standing by Lita all these years. I imagined how difficult it must be for him to see his wife suffer so much pain and for so long. Ken Tada, the husband of Joni Eareckson, a paraplegic, penned his feelings upon seeing her suffer, “. . . it was devastating to see Joni suffer. To watch her struggle to breathe. To see her face contorted with pain.” It is heart-rending.

The sick have to bear the physical pain but the caretakers have to bear the emotional pain. But, despite the pain, the caretakers have to remain strong. They cannot appear weak because they know their loved ones are helplessly depending on them. And one more thing: The sick might not be afraid of going, but the caretakers are usually afraid to be left alone.

To the caretakers let me say this to you, “God knows your pain.” It is deep—very deep. But, His hands are long enough to touch it.

Pastor Paul