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When God Speaks Through Tears!
A beautiful young girl with....

Two Years to Live
I am 23 years old and I have a fatal disease. According to
everything that I have been able to read about this disease,
I have reason to believe that I will die within the next two
years. I suppose that I should be filled with fear at the very thought
of DYING, but I am not afraid. However, I cannot give
up hope because I am trusting Jesus Christ. Since the very
beginning, I have been confident that God has His reasons
for my illness. In some ways, this has been a wonderful
blessing because I feel that through this . . . I have found
Jesus my Lord.

I pray that God will continue to bless me in this very special
way of His. He had made me realize how much I love my
family and how much they love me. He has given me a
husband whom I love dearly and who has helped me over
the few bad times. God has blessed me in many ways. Most
of all He has given the courage to face this disease, to not be
afraid, and to not fear death.

No, I cannot complain, for I am happy with this life on earth, and I know that I shall
be even happier in the life beyond the grave.

— Billie
Justine Ray
Editor’s Note:
The death of my sister Billie had a profound influence on my life. Even though many
years have found their way between her death and today, her faith still influences me.

During those years as a young man when I witnessed her great faith in facing death with
God and now—my faith has grown. The tears of that time were the voice of God speaking.

Those tears told me that life was short and that I must use every day for HIM!
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Lesson for the Living
Towering six feet seven inches, Ed Beck was a
basketball natural. At the University of Kentucky,
he captained the varsity and played on the 1958
NCAA championship team. –Sports Editor
Early in 1957, I was a junior at the University of Kentucky, playing
center on the Wildcat basketball team. Hundreds of miles away,
in a Macon, Georgia, hospital, my wife lay dying of an incurable
disease. I had wanted to stay at her side those months, but she
insisted I continue my education and my basketball. She wouldn’t
have me sitting around, waiting for her to die.

One Saturday night as I was flying to Macon after a game,
questions churned in my mind. Why did Billie have to die? Would
I find her better this time? Worse? Or would I arrive too late?
Early the next morning I knelt by her bed. “Billie,” I asked, “is
there anything you want to tell me?” She looked me full in the
eyes. “Yes, Ed,” she said softly, “one thing. Always remember
I’m all of God’s and He is all of me.”
Scarcely a month later we buried her pain-wasted body. Only
God knows why Billie had to die so young. But I know this: her
attitude through months of suffering showed me and countless
others how to live.

Faith—that was her secret strength. Not the vague kind we so
glibly talk about, but the kind one lives.

Billie was a nurse and intended to become a doctor. Then,
after I had finished college, we planned to marry and go to the
mission field together—me as an evangelist, Billie as a doctor.

But fate had other plans. Billie was bothered by a slight pain in
her upper chest. Doctors diagnosed the trouble as Hodgkin’s
disease, for which, then, no cure was known. Five years they
gave her; maybe only three.

Billie accepted this news calmly. I couldn’t. How could a loving
God permit such a thing for one who had dedicated her life to
healing others? But, praying together, we found strength to face
the future. I wanted to be married right away; Billie was strictly
against it. Finally, she agreed—on one condition. “Ed,” she said,
“no matter what happens to me, you’ll finish your education
and keep on playing basketball.” It was a hard bargain, but I
gave my word.

Just three weeks after we married in August 1955, Billie became
ill again. This time doctors offered no hope; death might come
any time. Now I fiercely rebelled. I demanded in prayers that she
be spared. But Billie gently rebuked: “Ed, don’t pray for healing.

Just pray that God will give me complete understanding.”
Though in almost constant pain for over a year, Billie rarely
talked about death. Instead, she did all she could to cheer others.

The head doctor at the incurable cancer clinic said her attitude
changed the outlook of nearly every other patient there. And
letters from all over the United States testify that she inspired
fresh faith for thousands who had lost all hope.

As the end drew near, Billie’s spirit never faltered. I stayed at her
bedside those last five days. The final afternoon she reached for
my hand, smiled faintly, and whispered, “Ed, don’t ever forget
that I love you.” Those were her last words.

A few weeks later, I stopped for lunch in a small Kentucky
town. My waitress stared, then asked, “Are you Ed Beck?”
When I said yes, tears formed in her eyes. “My husband has
Hodgkin’s disease,” she said simply. “All he does is sit around
and feel sorry for himself. How can I help him?”
We sat down and I told her about Billie’s complete trust in God. I
suggested that she and her husband read the Scriptures and pray
together, as Billie and I had done. And as we talked, I realized
that Billie’s death had not been in vain. Her demonstration of
faith always would live as an inspiration to others.

–Ed Beck
August 1955—Ed Beck and
Billie Ray are married.

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