“This testimony was written by a friend of our ministry, Dan Philgreen. His precious wife, Esther, joined our SiT sessions periodically as her chronic illness would allow. She faithfully prayed for women learning lessons from the Lord in the midst of pain. Dan has graciously shared his wrestling and the hope he found in the midst of caregiving. This couple has experienced the unthinkable journey, and sweet Esther is now in the presence of her Savior. We are grateful they are allowing us to learn from their pain.”

The Hardest Work I’ve Ever Done

Caregiving for my wife, Esther, was hard. Very hard. From the beginning, I felt ill-suited for it. I don’t have the natural nurturing skills some people do. I can be empathetic in certain situations, but not in the ways caregiving often requires.

I joked that my T-shirt should read “World’s Suckiest Caregiver.” Later, I upgraded myself to “World’s Most Better Than Nothing Caregiver.”

I loved my wife and would do anything for her. But the tasks? The day-to-day reality of it? The monotony, the vigilance, the sick room that became most of my world? Those things were not fulfilling for me. They were drudgery.

Am I glad I did them? Absolutely. Would I do them again? Without hesitation. But I made it through on prayer and stubborn willpower.

There were moments when my frustration with her disease made her think I was frustrated with her. That was awful. But it speaks to the truth caregivers know: sometimes the thing breaking you isn’t the person—it’s the situation.

And situations like that can break even the strongest people.

The Night Everything Collapsed

One day—or night, I couldn’t tell anymore—I was trying once again to adjust her bed. We had added a special air mattress to prevent bed sores, but nothing we tried made her comfortable.

Hours of adjustments. Days. Months. Years.

And then it happened.

“I CAN’T FIX IT!”

It burst out of me—not just about the bed, but about seven years of trying to fix the unfixable. My whole body heaved with sobs unlike anything I’d experienced. Esther wanted to hug me but couldn’t move. I was empty. Hollow. Done.

After who knows how long, the storm inside me quieted. I got up, drained, and walked past my desk.

There was an envelope with my name on it. I opened it. Inside was a check—a dollar amount from the escrow on our recently paid-off mortgage. I had no idea it was coming.

Someone else might have shrugged. But I knew.

God was speaking.

Not through the money itself, but through the timing—right when I felt abandoned, hopeless, and incapable. The message was unmistakable:

“I am here. I have you.”

It didn’t fix the situation. But in that moment, it steadied me. It reminded me that I wasn’t carrying this alone.

For Caregivers Walking a Similar Road

Caregiving is holy work, but it’s also devastating work.

It demands more than you think you have.

It reveals weaknesses you didn’t want to face.

It strips away illusions of control.

And in the hardest moments, you may wonder where Jesus is.

But this much I know:

Jesus is near to the breaking point. He sees you when no one else does. He steadies the shaking hands. He hears the prayers that never make it into words. He meets you in the long nights and the quiet collapses.

And sometimes, in His mercy, He gives you a reminder—an unexpected moment of provision or presence—that whispers:

“You are not alone.”

A Final Word

This story isn’t an argument or a sales pitch. It’s simply the honest testimony of a husband who walked the valley of caregiving and loss, and found God faithfully present all along.

If this brings you comfort or encouragement, I’m grateful.

Because even in the hardest realities of life and death, hope is not imaginary.

Hope is real.

And He draws near to the brokenhearted.