Brandon Ryan served as a graduate student/professor in what was then called, the Dallas Lays Institute of Dallas Theological Seminary. He had previously served in a branch of the U.S. Military as a career officer. However, if I can recall the story correctly he believed very strongly that God had prepared him for a much more important task for which he was following when I met him. I was one of three students he had during a semester long course in Christian Suffering at Dallas Theological. I too felt the necessity to take the course since that year seemed to pose a great deal of difficult and unusual trials for me as I embarked on a not too clear path of ministry. Our class seemed quite pathetic a group, being a young and fledgling short-term missionary and my fellow classmates, one a quiet but serious girl from China and an older gentleman who worked for the Mrs. Baird’s Bread company (he wore his uniform to class). But each week we gathered huddled together in a usually cold and mostly empty room while Brandon brought one more lesson on the subject of Christian suffering. It did not occur to us at first that our lesson would not be found on a dusty chalkboard but in the life of a young 30-something graduate student. It did not take long that semester to discover that Brandon was wrestling with a very difficult issue in his life—which usually came open to us when he would pause just finding something in his lesson that reminded him of the cancer he was struggling with. Brandon would say very frustrating…I do not understand, I have children (I believe the oldest was only around seven 7 years old, the youngest maybe 4 years old) and a young wife. His pause might last nearly 10 minutes and sometimes longer as he explained his dilemma…then he’d say again on another occasion recalling James 5: angry that the elders of his church had not offered themselves to keep prayer vigil over his illness. But Brandon was not just struggling with his illness; he struggled with the will of God and the work of suffering. I still can hear myself as a student then asking God, in secret if I might know the answer Brandon needed to hear and strangely each time, I would be given just enough to bring a smile to him and a small sigh of what seemed like joy. Nevertheless, that fall quickly turned to winter, the course was just near ending, and Brandon’s appearance was waning. I saw what was once a healthy military-trained body turn frail right before my eyes. The cancer seemed like a thief stealing away his body and his hope. But it never failed; Brandon would always be in class just moments before we arrived to open his classroom door and invite us in to look into the mystery of God regarding suffering. We did not learn until way into class time that he had discharged himself from the hospital to be there. No one had to tell me that I would never miss a class time with him no matter what the excuse, nor did any of the other two—it was understood, it was God’s will. But I couldn’t help sitting there wondering in my mind how Brandon being in that class should hold such great importance to God—shouldn’t his time be for his family he agonized over so many times? The course had now come to an end and Brandon was given a release from it for a while to maybe make himself ready for the next semester. I promised myself, I would be his student again for his next semester course he had invited us to. I’d come to love his demonstration of God so much it seemed there could be no other decision than to follow him. The other girl student was taking her learning back to China, so we said our farewells. And the gentleman from Mrs. Baird Bread company would stick around for the next semester as I had planned. Next semester came and I prepared myself with joy to be returning to Brandon, but when I called that January to arrange my classes, I was told that Brandon would not be teaching that semester. He had been hospitalized and was not expected to recuperate. I prayed for him with hope that there was still something God desired from him when partly it was the holding on I really was asking for. Not very long after that day, on a Sunday, I was guest singer at a fairly large church and naturally I was full of excitement and yet some nervousness— but nonetheless ready. One of the ministers had arranged my appearance and before introducing me, he made an announcement regarding one of the graduate professors whom everyone knew—at least it seemed that way. I could hear just barely the name—but God had planned it—it was Brandon. He introduced me and I gathered myself and stood up. I could not apologize for what I was feeling that moment, so I invited all of them to know what my reaction was from. I began, “Brandon Ryan was my teacher. And since I am here, let me tell you who he is.”…before it was over I knew there were tears in my eyes and some of those who listened. That day I sung with him in my heart, “Lord I pray today, for the rest of my life, live inside my heart, please stay, for always, till that timeless place when we’re face to face, and we embrace for always.” God allowed me to meet Brandon’s wife and children at the celebration of his home going. Maybe now after 30 years, it is known why he kept his appointment. I know without a doubt that Brandon’s life is deeply set in mine and the message of the Gospel I speak today. How Great is the Grace and Love of God to spend such worth!
