I lived with my brother for the last eight months of his life. After being told he was terminal I hoped, I believe as all family members of loved ones with terminal cancer, that there would be a miracle in which he lived long enough into the future for us to both look back and say “Remember when they told you you were terminal. Those doctors don’t know nothing.” But in the battle between faith and science death is a constant.
My brother loved speaking the Word of the Lord and one Sunday morning he got up around 9am and began to preach. I woke up to his loud strong voice, turned to look at the clock thinking it was way too early to get up on a Sunday. (Sleeping in on Sunday is still one of my top reasons not to go to church.)
But that Sunday as my brother preached the Word of God at first I did my best not to listen to him and fall back to sleep. After an hour of his sermon I began to wonder just how long he could go on and I decided to start listening.
He preached of the Spirit and how the Spirit is not of the flesh. He said that people were too concerned with Jesus. We should be more concerned with the Holy Ghost. The Spirit represented love and good in the world and it is the Spirit that endures long after the body is gone.
He preached that Sunday for three hours. After two hours I decided to get out of bed and get my Spirit moving.
My brother passed away on March 6th and I’ve been though so many emotions since then I don’t even know how to begin to describe how I feel. But one thing I know for sure is that I feel my brother’s Spirit, within me, beside me, around me, and I know that he is at peace.