Climbing Out of Lazarus’ Tomb
by Ed Dobson
I first noticed a problem when I was backpacking. I had difficulty opening jars and bottles. I thought, Well, you just turned fifty, and this is what happens when you get old. Then I started getting twitches in my back and in my arm muscles. My wife encouraged me to see a doctor. But being typically male, I blew off her advice. One day I was writing out my sermon notes, and I had this strange feeling—as if my mind and my hand were not cooperating. My hand seemed to be a few seconds behind my brain. This frightened me.

The next Sunday morning, I was in church, sitting on the front row. Seated behind me was a friend who is a neurologist. During the congregational singing before the sermon, I turned to him and said, “I have been having this weakness in my hands, and lately my muscles have been twitching. When I was writing out my sermon notes, I had this strange sensation that my brain and my hand were not coordinated. What do you think?” Of course, a physician is not going to give a diagnosis during the singing prior to the sermon. “I think you’d better come and see me,” he said. “Like tomorrow morning.”

So I went to see the neurologist the next day. After examining me and testing my muscle strength, he sat me down in his office. “There is a continuum of possibilities,” he said. “You may have benign fasciculations. Everyone has twitches in their muscles. Maybe you have more twitches than the average person. On the other hand, you may have motor neuron disease—known as ALS or Lou Gehrig’s disease.” When the doctor mentioned ALS (amyotrophic lateral sclerosis), I was completely stunned. Several people in our church had died of ALS. One of them was a young man who lived for seven years after he was diagnosed. I had visited him about once a month for those seven years and preached his funeral. Another was an older man who lived for eleven months after he was diagnosed.

My neurologist referred me to the University of Michigan ALS clinic for further testing. A few weeks later the doctors confirmed that I had a motor neuron disease and that it was most likely ALS, a degenerative, incurable, and terminal disease. They gave me a large folder filled with information about my disease and basically told me that there was nothing they could do for me except to help me manage my increasing disability. They told me that there is no known cause for this disease and no known cure. They said that I would have two to five years to live, and that most of that time would be in a disabled condition.

When you are told you have an incurable and terminal disease, no words can describe the sinking feeling you have. Outside Jerusalem, beyond the Mount of Olives, there is a place called Bethany, the ancient home of Mary, Martha, and Lazarus. Up one of the back alleys is a Second Temple period tomb. Outside the tomb a sign indicates, “The Tomb of Lazarus.” After paying a modest entrance fee, visitors descend a long spiral staircase. Down and down and down. When they reach the bottom, they crawl under a large stone, and on the other side they see a burial chamber. It is far from the warmth of the sunshine on the street, dark, confining, and claustrophobic. This is what a terminal disease feels like. You descend from the warmth and sunshine into a dark and confining space. You descend into the tomb of Lazarus, and you think that you will never return to the sunshine.

So when you find it difficult to read the Bible or even pray, what do you do? How do you climb out of the tomb of Lazarus? After my illness was diagnosed, I discovered that my ability to focus on God, the Bible, and prayer was significantly limited. I could take spiritual truth only in small bites. Over the next several months, God inspired me to forge some simple prayers that helped me climb out of the tomb of Lazarus. Some days I walk in the warmth and sunshine of hope. On other days I am in the darkness of the tomb of Lazarus. Every day is a struggle, and every day I must do all I can to keep climbing the staircase out of the tomb.

I offer Prayers and Promises When Facing a Life Threatening Illness as a guide for those who face a life-threatening illness and for those who care for them. I am still very much on the journey. I do not have all of the answers. But I have discovered the power of these simple prayers and promises to help me along the way. I encourage you to pray one of these prayers each day.

From Prayers and Promises When Facing a Life Threatening Illness by Ed Dobson