Birmingham December 2017 “Deliver that letter”
01/12/17 03:36
At the age of twelve I started my Secondary School learning at the local Grammar School. I can still remember the role call each morning as we sat alphabetically in columns. “Alden, Atkins, Barnard, Barnes, Baylis, Carter ...”. The boy sitting behind me became my best friend at school and the only one I managed to keep in contact with afterwards. He went on to the medical profession whilst I went into electrical engineering. Every Christmas we would exchange cards with a letter inside telling the story of our lives over the past year. He got married, had children and shared their successes with me (and my parents who were avid readers of his letters). My letters to him were far less interesting! However despite us both living in Birmingham we had never met since leaving school. I used to go round to his house and drop the card on his doorstep, too shy/afraid to ring the bell lest I be intruding on his family. That changed around 2011 when I finally picked up courage to press that button and we met face to face again after forty years. Of course I was welcomed with open arms. I didn't recognise him but he did me and I was invited in to hear, in person, what was going on in his life. A wonderful thirty minutes that lifted my spirits. I recounted the stories to my parents who were thrilled that I had finally picked up courage to meet him again.
Three years later my life had changed when in 2015 I got married. I had posted him a card in November that year as I was heading over to Malaysia to sort out the wedding arrangements. When my wife and I visited the UK later that year I called him and we met near to where I live. This time though my good news was overshadowed by his health problems. He had been diagnosed with a cancer. He told us of the treatment that was about to start and that he was still working but for less hours now. My wife prayed for his recovery and we went our separate ways. Now I was living in Malaysia during the UK winter I sent him a Christmas Card (not the easiest thing to do in a country where sending anniversary cards is not a tradition). I returned to the UK in autumn 2016 to continue the process of disposing of unwanted contents in my flat, usually to the charity shops in Halesowen where my parents used to live. It was early December and I was ready to fly back to Malaysia the next day but I still had to post my friend's card. I was in a hurry and had put a stamp on it, fully intending to post it to him again. It was mid afternoon and I was driving along the main road that passes less than 200m from his house. I suddenly had a feeling that I should go and see him. That was ridiculous as he should be at work but the feeling was very strong, “Deliver that letter”. I turned off the main road and headed to his house and pressed the doorbell.
It was quiet and I said to myself “This is pointless, he won't be here” then just as I was about to post his card I spotted movement behind the door. I waited and the door opened, he was in! My happiness didn't last, he was using a walking stick and was obviously unwell. However he was pleased to see me and invited me in. We sat in the kitchen and he recounted what had been going on since we last met. He had bone cancer that had spread across his body and he was on the highest level of pain killers. I was shocked and saddened but then started to think. “Why had I come here to see my friend like this? It must be because my Lord wants me to pray for him and then he will be healed”. For the past two years I had lived in an environment where people prayed for the sick and the sick were healed. Now it would be my turn to do this when it mattered most. I asked if I could pray for him and he said yes. He had seen many miraculous recoveries during his working life and I had heard of similar. I knew that's why I had been told to visit him so I prayed for his recovery and we parted. The next day I flew back to Malaysia for Christmas.
In early January I got an email from my friend's wife. He had died. I just sat and read her words again and again. So my prayers for healing and recovery had been a total waste of time. I was miserable and resolved to have three days of mourning during which I would not be singing my Lord's praises each morning! I would sit sullenly at the time my wife and I would usually sing worship songs. That would show Him how much it hurt me for not healing my friend. It was on the first of these days, when I was contemplating on my friend's fate when I heard these words “Didn't you want to see him for the last time?” I knew that voice and I knew what was meant. I verbally answered “Yes but I wanted him to be healed!”. We didn't have a conversation, I knew that I had been told that his time in this world was over and I had been given the chance to say goodbye. The next day when my wife and I sat down to pray and sing, I sat quietly. I had said I would mourn for three days and even knowing that wasn't going to change things for me then after the third day I started singing again.