| Victory in Jesus- The Life of a Home-Schooled Teen
By Rick Boyer
(From “Our Readers Write” feature, The Teaching Home, May/June 1997)
Oh, how I love my boy!
He was born August 5, 1979. We named him Joshua Andrew Boyer – Joshua, meaning God Is My Salvation, and Andrew, meaning Man of God.
As a little boy, Josh saw humor everywhere. He laughed at everything, including himself. Not overburdened with coordination, he did some things so awkwardly that he was sometimes laughed at by others. Rather than being wounded, Josh laughed too.
The chubby, round-faced toddler metamorphosed into a gangling preteen and then a tall, skinny teenager.
When his three older brothers were out of the house and on the job with Dad, Josh became Mom’s right-hand man. He was her chauffeur and errand boy. He was the mainstay of the yard and garden crew, as well as keeping up with his “school” work and helping to supervise the activities of his younger siblings.
Josh’s favorite of those siblings was Tucker, 3. Many teenage boys can’t be bothered with little brothers, but not so with Josh. They were special buddies, and often Tuck could be found riding around with Josh in his truck and, when Josh was sick, sitting in his tiny recliner right next to Josh’s big one.
Normal attire for Josh was blue jeans, a flannel shirt, and cowboy boots. He was in his glory when baling hay or milking cows on my uncle’s Ozark farm.
Having finished his studies, Josh took a job doing lawn care for a few months, then started a similar business of his own. He saved his money and paid cash for a truck, mowers, and other equipment. Everything was coming up roses for Josh.
Then Josh got sick.
In August Josh complained that he was having persistent headaches and sometimes felt weak and dizzy. The doctors suspected a sinus infection or possibly mono. Then blood test results came back: Leukemia. Suddenly our world was turned upside down.
Josh was admitted to the hospital at the University of Virginia, an hour and a half away in Charlottesville. We were told that with Josh’s type of illness, he had a 75 percent chance of a cure. We would learn that God had other plans.
Despite everything, God gave my wife and me peace. Likewise with our son. Once I asked Josh if he was scared. He was sleepy with drugs, but managed to reply, “The word is not in my vocabulary.”
Josh lost his hair, but not his sense of humor. He lost his privacy, but not his dignity. He lost his physical strength, but not his strength of character. He lost his appetite, but not his testimony. He lost his comfort, but not his compassion.
On one of several occasions when the doctor had to tell Josh that another treatment had failed, Josh replied, “It must be hard for you to have to give people bad news all the time.”
On Saturday, March 22, 1997, Josh left for heaven. He had been born at home, educated at home, and he died at home. I hugged and kissed my son, full of praise to the Lord for lifting him out of his sufferings with His beloved, nail-pierced hands. Relief, gratitude, joy, love, exaltation swirled through me, and I couldn’t do much but repeat, “Oh, praise Jesus!” over and over.
We were determined the public memorial service would be a time of rejoicing. Several people shared testimonies concerning the work they had seen God do in and through Josh’s life. The pastor gave a clear presentation of the gospel.
There was special music, including a quartet comprised in part of two of Josh’s brothers. We sang no dirges, but songs of triumph. We closed the service with “Victory in Jesus.”
We know of 12 people who have received Christ as Savior partly due to Josh’s influence. Many others have said they are closer to the Lord for having agonized and prayed for Josh. A number have been challenged, encouraged, and convicted by Josh’s testimony.
Josh’s homegoing is still so recent that I can’t write about it without tears. But, for the most part, they are tears of joy. We miss our son, but we know that he is finished with suffering forever and is in the presence of the One whom we ourselves long to see.
We didn’t get to keep Josh for threescore and ten, but that was never promised. We’re thankful for 17 years with a great son. God’s grace is sufficient, and not once since Josh got sick has He allowed us to fear the outcome, to grow bitter, or to doubt that our God acts not only in all power, but in all love.
We miss our boy. But soon we’ll be with him and with the Lord. Until then, may God give us that loved Josh the grace to take what we have learned from his life and his death and forge ahead. There is work to be done and battles to be fought for the Kingdom of God. To Him be all glory and praise forever!
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