16 May the Lord show mercy to the household of Onesiphorus, because he often refreshed me and was not ashamed of my chains.
Have you ever gone through a time when you felt alone, abandoned even by those closest to you? The circumstances that you faced seemed to cloud the sky, obscuring your view, making it difficult to look beyond, let alone through the troubling time? Perhaps, that is where you are today, having difficulty imagining a future, let alone a future of hope. I have been there. I have felt that kind of despair. And so has the Apostle Paul, the writer of this passage. He needed to be refreshed as he sat in prison, having been falsely accused, isolated from the work God called him to do. This was not in Paul’s playbook, his plan for his life. The medical diagnosis, the unexpected career interruption, the breaking of that important relationship, the loss of a loved one, all these can thrust you into a very dark place. Paul felt abandoned there in prison. The people he thought he could count on were not there in his moment of need. There was one person that made the difference for Paul. His name was Onesiphorus. You know, that’s all it takes sometimes, one person. When I was in Baghdad I had two such persons. The three of us saved each other’s lives, so to speak. We brought sanity into the mess. For me, perhaps more than for them, I don’t know how I could have made it. Perry and Ken saved my life. The conversations we had, the small, seemingly insignificant interchanges, these are what helped me keep going. They were Jesus with skin on. I am wondering, who are the Onesiphorus’ in your life? Stop for a moment and think. Who around you lifts your spirit when they are around, who gives you their most precious commodity, their time? And for whom are you the Onesiphorus? Into whom are you pouring encouragement and hope? Even as believers, there are times when we get down, depressed, lacking sight of the hope we have in Jesus. These are the times when friendship can be the lifeline that extends from the future to the present enabling us to continue, knowing that the lifeline is anchored on something solid.