Interview: James Delingpole
THE THINGS THAT MATTER
I recently had the opportunity to be a guest on James Delingpole’s podcast. It was honestly a very fun and fulfilling experience. I felt ill-prepared and somewhat off my game, but eventually settled in enough to have what felt like a productive and meaningful conversation.
I’m always humbled by the way God has allowed me to share my testimony in ways I never could have imagined in my younger years. Looking back on the experience, though, I realize that my mind wasn’t entirely in the room that day.
What began as an exciting opportunity had become something much more difficult.
My mother-in-law, Cheri, whom I love dearly, is currently in the final throes of a painful and tragic decline. She is actively dying, and her passing is imminent. The last few days, I’ve spent much of my time at the hospital with my wife and her family as we watched her condition deteriorate. The morning James and I recorded, I was preparing to visit her assisted living facility to determine whether she needed a higher level of care than they could provide.
Anyone who has watched a loved one disappear into the fog of dementia understands what a cruel affliction it is. There are many forms of the disease, but all of them seem to rob us of something sacred. They steal memories, identities, independence, and eventually the ability to communicate with the people we love.
While I was genuinely excited to join James on his show, my thoughts kept drifting toward what I might find when I arrived to see Cheri.
I wasn’t prepared for what I found.
Suffice it to say that she needed far more assistance than her residence could reasonably provide. That isn’t a criticism of the people caring for her. Quite the opposite. They were doing the very best they could with the resources available to them. God bless the caregivers, nurses, aides, and family members who devote their lives to caring for the elderly. It is often thankless work, but it is some of the most important work a person can do.
Why bring this up in an article about a podcast interview?
Because it’s real.
It’s real life.
We all carry burdens that the people around us know nothing about. We toil and suffer. We experience loss, disappointment, sickness, trauma, and failure. We spend our lives trying to navigate a world that often seems indifferent to our struggles. We are fragile creatures inhabiting fragile bodies, doing our best to make sense of our brief time here.
During the interview, we discussed many subjects that matter deeply to me. Yet beneath all of those conversations, my thoughts kept returning to Cheri.
Cheri, who lived a difficult life and rarely seemed to catch a break.
Cheri, who could still make me laugh with her wit and stubborn sense of humor.
Cheri, who often said, “You never take more than you need, because that would be stealing from the poor,” despite the fact that she herself often had very little.
The older I get, the more I realize that character is often forged in adversity. Some people become bitter when life wounds them. Others somehow emerge with their kindness intact.
I think about my wife often in moments like these. I think about all that she has endured throughout her life and yet remains one of the most joyful people I know. Her faith is steadfast. Her resilience is remarkable. In moments when sadness weighs heavily on my heart, I find myself marveling at the beauty that still exists amid suffering.
How precious each human life is.
How much we have to be grateful for.
How often God gently reminds us that there is no need to fear because He is still sovereign over all of it.
We live in an age saturated with information, technology, outrage, and anxiety. We are connected to everything and yet often feel disconnected from everyone. Depression, loneliness, and despair seem to be everywhere. It is easy to become cynical. Easy to forget that every person we encounter is carrying burdens of their own.
Moments like this remind me of something important.
People matter.
The person standing in line beside you matters.
The cashier at the grocery store matters.
The nurse working a double shift matters.
The lonely neighbor matters.
The struggling parent matters.
The elderly woman sitting quietly in a care facility matters.
Never underestimate what a kind word can do for someone who is hurting. A smile can shatter the darkness in someone’s day. A brief conversation can remind someone that they are seen. A moment of genuine attention can be a gift far greater than we realize.
I was excited to speak with James because I enjoy his work and respect what he does. I was grateful for the opportunity to share my own work with a new audience.
But as I reflect on that day, those aren’t the things that stand out most vividly.
What I remember most is laughing.
I remember having a natural conversation with another human being.
I remember being distracted from grief for a little while.
I remember feeling normal.
And, as strange as it sounds, I needed that.
Sometimes God’s grace arrives in dramatic ways. Other times it arrives in the form of a conversation, a shared laugh, or an unexpected moment of peace in the middle of a difficult season.
So thank you, James, for sharing a little of your time with me.
And to everyone reading this, let me encourage you to do something intentional today.
Listen to someone.
Smile at a stranger.
Call a friend.
Laugh with a loved one.
Tell someone you appreciate them.
Life is fragile. Time is short. None of us knows how many opportunities remain.
Yet even in seasons of grief, there is always something to be grateful for.
Always.