by Jennifer Steenstra

Dean was 86 years old when he died this summer. He was married to my mother for 25 happy years. Their love ran deep. God’s love ran deeper still.

Dean was a remarkable man. WW2 veteran. Basketball coach of Lewis and Clark college. Community activist. Parent and grandparent. My mother’s love. He gave his life to the pursuit of truth after a miraculous healing that followed a debilitating war injury. His search found him in the context of Christian Science.

Here’s how the story ends (or perhaps begins). At age 86, Dean asked Jesus to be his lord and savior. And was baptized a few weeks later. Two more weeks later, he met his savior Jesus face to face. He is greatly missed here on earth--we mark his memorial service this September. But oh, the joyous expectation of feasting together at the Lord’s table gives us all a sustaining hope.

So, how did this happen--this decision for Christ in one man’s life? Certainly it was the dogged pursuit of the Hound of Heaven. And the softening heart work of God’s spirit guiding him into truth. But I also saw up close one of His powerful tools—my mother’s witness to Christ.

“What this means to ME.” They were in the scriptures. And they talked about spiritual things in their coming and goings daily. The honest dialog was generally “What does that mean to you?” “This is what this means to me.” Not in an “I’m-right-you’re-wrong” way, but in an “I-want-to-understand-you, and-you-want-to-understand-me way.” Sunday mornings they attended both the Christian Science church (where Mom mostly prayed earnestly through the service) and the Lutheran church we grew up in, and were loved and welcomed by both congregations.

“Keep seeking . There’s something more.” Mom and Dean stirred one another in their search for Truth. And along the way Mom validated the “partial truths”, but encouraged the search for the greater Truth, the whole complete Truth. Rather than be critical of an invalid, dangerous path, Mom’s example seemed to be rooted in encouragement. And a deep trust that God was at work. And clarity that her role was not to be confused with God’s.

“Keep praying.” Mom partnered with God in His love and desire for Dean. Wanting for him all of what God wanted for him. So she prayed (along with her family, and the Wednesday morning ladies’ Bible Study), confident in God’s work. And she prayed for protection, against Satan’s presence in the battlefield, and the darkness of lies, confident in the power of Jesus’ name. And she prayed for strength—it’s a long and sometimes lonesome road.

A few days before Dean died, Mom talked with Dean about prayer. “You don’t need that Science and Health now; we get to go straight to Jesus.” As they prayed, she told of seeing the peace of Christ come over Dean, as he sat in the worn blue living room chairs. His breathing steadied, his countenance lifted. “He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters. He restores my soul.” Indeed, there is always something more of God’s great love.

I’m so grateful to have seen this inspiration up close. And believe it’s a witness to be shared.