Losing Mike Too Soon

ODDITIES OF THE OLD TESTAMENT

Over the last thirty-four years that we’ve been good friends, I've had more conversations about the Old Testament with Mike than with anyone else. His love for it was unmatched, and he valued how every part pointed to the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus and our need for God's forgiveness and grace.

But what he really spent the most time talking and laughing about were those parts of the OT that, to us now, sound downright bizarre. The stuff that makes us scratch our heads and go, "Wait, what?!".

Like Isaiah wandering around naked for three years (Isaiah 20:2–4).

Like the Bible casually noting that the sword sank so deeply into King Eglon’s enormous belly that the handle disappeared into the fat (Judges 3:21–22).

Or David collecting Philistine foreskins as a wedding gift (1 Samuel 18:25–27).

To a first-time Bible reader or religious cynic, these stories sound completely absurd. But Mike knew that in their own time and culture, they made perfect sense. He loved digging into the context and pushing past our gut reactions, knowing that hidden in the strange details was the depth of God’s story unfolding right there in those biblically bizarre moments.

A YEAR OF JOB

As much as Mike enjoyed laughing at the Bible’s strangest stories, he never shied away from the more difficult truths, either—like Job’s suffering. Early last year, before his diagnosis, he read through Job again. He told me what struck him most was how Job had no idea what was happening to him, yet still refused to stop trusting God.

From last August through last week, every report Mike received—tests, scans, exams, biopsies—was bad news. “We found a mass.” “It’s cancer.” “It’s through the esophageal lining.” “It’s metastasized.” “It’s in the muscles and will be excruciatingly painful.” “It’s affecting organs.” “It’s in your lungs.” “The cancer isn’t responding to treatment.” For a year, every report…a gut punch. And every single time, Mike kept thanking God for the life he had, while praying for more.

Last year, Mike read Job. And, for the last year, he lived Job’s faith.

HE FOUND HIS STRENGTH IN ROMANS

What Mike loved most about the Bible, even more than the odd stories in the Old Testament, was the book of Romans. It held the two truths he believed most deeply: our need for God’s grace and that our physical death is not the end.

He cherished that God’s grace is available to everyone—and he knew he needed it. Mike knew his own flaws, just like the rest of us know ours, but he rested in the truth that we are made right with God, not because we’ve done it right, but because Jesus did. That’s the gift Mike clung to: forgiveness that is unearned, undeserved, and unending. (Romans 3:23–24)

And equally so, he knew this life is not all there is.

It is so depressing and angering to all of us that Mike passed away the way he did.

Birth: 1963.
Death: 2025.
It is unfair.
Sixty-one years.

Too soon. Too short.

But Mike didn’t measure life from birth to death.
He measured it from conception to eternity.

That’s why, even as his days here ended sooner than any of us wanted, he carried himself with strength and faith.

In Romans 8, Paul reminded Mike and reminds us that what we see now isn’t the whole story. He calls our present life “groaning.” Creation groans. Our bodies groan. Everything feels incomplete, waiting. It is the ache of time pressing in on us. But the Spirit whispers a bigger truth: this isn’t the end of the line.

Because, like Mike, we don’t measure life from birth to death.

We measure it from conception to eternity.

Paul says that in Christ, we have been adopted as God’s children, heirs with Him, waiting for the full redemption of our bodies. That means sixty-one years—or ninety-one years—are not the sum total. They are the opening chapter. Life is not a line with a sudden stop.

So yes, death cuts short. It interrupts. It feels so wrong.

But Romans 8 anchors us in this: the sufferings of this present time aren’t worth comparing to the glory that will be revealed. Glory. Unending life. A future where God makes all things new and nothing is lost.

I want to end with a passage from Romans that carried deep meaning for Mike. These words anchored him in life and steadied him in the hardest year of his life.

Romans 8:18-23

18 Yet what we suffer now is nothing compared to the glory he will reveal to us later. 19 For all creation is waiting eagerly for that future day when God will reveal who his children really are. 20 Against its will, all creation was subjected to God’s curse. But with eager hope, 21 the creation looks forward to the day when it will join God’s children in glorious freedom from death and decay. 22 For we know that all creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time. 23 And we believers also groan, even though we have the Holy Spirit within us as a foretaste of future glory, for we long for our bodies to be released from sin and suffering. We, too, wait with eager hope for the day when God will give us our full rights as his adopted children, including the new bodies he has promised us.

MIKE WANTED YOU TO KNOW

About three months after his diagnosis, Mike told me, “I hope how I face this cancer can help someone find Christ.” He wants you to know the same joy he had in the best moments and in the hardest. And even more, he wants you to know the future hope he found in Christ is available to you too.

©2025 Greg McNichols, All rights reserved.
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Mike’s HEART FOR MISSIONS

Instead of flowers, Dawn invites you to contribute to Guatemala Compassionate Ministries.

For over 20 years, Mike passionately supported Newstart's mission work in Central America. Your gift will continue that legacy.

One hundred percent of your donation will go directly to compassionate ministry projects in Guatemala—personally overseen by Dawn and supported through Nazarene Compassionate Ministries.

You can use this link to honor his memory in a way that will make a tangible difference.

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