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As this year comes to a close, let me tell you about a friend of mine.

He makes the world better by his presence in it. He has faced more loss and grief, pain and suffering than anyone should.

I want to respect his privacy as I tell you his story, but to share enough so you can understand why I describe him as the best man I have ever known.

He lost his first wife, a bright and capable person in her own right, to a disease for which there is no cure, one that is totally debilitating physically and mentally.

I met both of them before she lost her ability to communicate. He cared for her in the midst of a heavy ministry schedule that in and of itself would have worn down the best of us. I know it helped that his wife gave him loving support in spite of her own needs.

As the years passed he carried this increasingly personal anguish with grace and serenity. Not once did I hear him speak in a tone that revealed bitterness about what was happening. By the time the end came death itself was a mercy for her and for him.

But the disease was not gone from the family. My friend’s son was the first of his children to begin showing symptoms of it. He was so young, too young, and he fought bravely, but the disease inevitably overtook him. As with his mother, death brought a merciful end to unjust suffering that broke your heart to see it.

This vibrant and funny young man was, to put it simply, beautiful. I have never used that word to describe any man before or since meeting him, but it was perfect for him. He looked like a movie star without trying to.

Once when he and his father were traveling in our area and stopped by to visit, seeing the effects of those early symptoms made me want to cry. Later that night I was filled with anger as I thought about what that terrible disease was doing to him. I was angry at life, at the injustice of this family’s pain, at modern medicine still helpless to find a cure, angry that everyone was helpless to do anything to relieve his suffering, even angry at God.

Not once, though, did I ever hear my friend express anger like I was feeling. He did talk about his son’s slow deterioration in ways that revealed unimaginable pain a father in his situation would feel, but I never sensed anger at all.

It was not long before his son needed to be in a facility that could provide 24 hour care. As usual my friend accepted that reality with understanding and love as he gave unconditional support to his daughter-in-law and his two young grandsons.

Though I am sure it was longer than it felt, it seemed like only a short time later that I received a letter that went to his wide circle of friends telling all of us at once that this beautiful specimen of a young man had died. I called to talk to him, barely able to hold back my own tears until he described the events of the last days with a sense of deep gratitude that what was inevitable had finally happened and that their family’s love was the bond that was holding them all together.

By then ministry had taken us to different places around the country, yet we managed to stay in touch, especially through his annual Christmas letter that was something very special. I anticipated it coming much like children anticipate the coming of Santa Claus.

It was one of those long Christmas letters people send, only his honesty about the family, his detail about each member’s life, and the sheer brilliance of his writing put it in a class of its own. I would often read it more than once. It was that good.

I remember the year my heart stopped when I read that one of his two daughters had symptoms of the disease that had already taken his first wife and son. Yet in the very next paragraph he expressed gratitude that his other daughter was still symptom free.

Since then he has experienced serious health problems, and once while in the hospital had fallen through no fault of his own and injured one of his eyes that led to his losing sight in it permanently. A year later while in his garage with his walker he tripped and in the fall injured his only good eye. He has now lost sight in that one as well.

All of that on top of only months earlier having his second wife diagnosed with a chronic and potentially debilitating disease of her own. This has left them in a situation where neither can care for the other.

That is where things now stand, with the unfairness of life having engulfed this man and his family in ways that would break the strongest among us.

As I look back on his life, though, what comes to mind are not his pain and suffering, but the fact that in the midst of it all he still managed to give a lifetime in ministry helping to make life better for the urban poor. He still managed to read and study to satisfy his own intellectual appetite and to ensure that his sermons would continue to meet a high standard of biblical integrity and practical application, and they did.

Today was a special day because I got to spend time with him and his family (an amazing bunch and not at all surprising) and once again I came away awed by his indomitable spirit, his capacity to rise above the worst of circumstances, and what I believe is surely the very Spirit of God deep in his soul that has made him the man he is.

My friend is quite simply a very, very, good man who has taken the worst punches life could possibly throw at him and is still standing as if to say, “Is that all you got?”

I am not the man he is, nor will I ever be. But I am a better man for knowing him than I would have ever been.

That is a grace I do not deserve, but for which I will remain forever grateful.