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SOME THOUGHTS
ON THIS HORRIBLE BLESSING
Last Wednesday night
in Indianapolis, Franklin Graham spoke before a convention hall
filled with Southern Baptists and brought us up to date on his
parents. His father, the venerable evangelist Dr. Billy Graham,
has endured a couple of difficult surgeries lately, lives in pain,
and has trouble getting around. But, he's gradually improving
and expects to be preaching soon. Mrs. Graham--the equally outstanding
Ruth--spends her days in a wheelchair, no longer able to walk.
Franklin said, "The other
day, Daddy hobbled into Mother's bedroom and said, 'I feel so
bad. I feel like the Lord is ready to take me home.' Mother said,
'That must feel wonderful.'" As we laughed, Franklin said,
"He won't get any sympathy from Mother!"
I feel bad enough to die. When
I die, I'm going to Heaven. That will be wonderful.
In so few words, we have the believer's
predicament as he faces his own death. On the one hand, dying
is frequently accompanied by pain and suffering and results in
separation and sadness. It's terrible. Then, in the moments following
death, the believer is brought into the presence of the Lord Jesus
Christ to enjoy delights and sensations for which nothing on earth
has prepared him. It's terrific.
"To be absent from the body"--what
we call death--strikes fear and sorrow into the hearts of humans.
Nothing, we think, could be worse. "To be absent from the
body is to be present with the Lord." (II Corinthians 5)
What could be better? Absent here; present there.
It's all a matter of perspective.
Out the "exit" sign here, through the "entrance"
sign there.
We stand on the shore and watch
our loved one sail toward the distant horizon and say, "There
he goes." The saints standing on the celestial shore call
out, "Here he comes."
I think I have figured something
out. In John 11, Jesus weeps at the graveside of his friend Lazarus.
Now, the man has been dead 4 days, a condition which Jesus could
have prevented, and the Lord is about to raise him from the dead.
So, why is Jesus crying? I think I know.
Watching the week-long funeral
of former President Ronald Reagan, on several occasions I was
moved to tears. In no way was I weeping for Mr. Reagan, although
I admired him. But he was elderly and sickly, he had lived a long
life, and it was clearly his time. Yet, when the military pallbearers
bore his casket into the Capitol Rotunda and Mrs. Reagan reached
out to touch it lovingly, that got me. When military men and women,
in uniform or not, stood at full attention and saluted the casket,
that got me. When a child walking beside his parents stopped to
remove his glasses and wipe his eyes, I lost it. At the burial
site, when son Michael Reagan spoke of the gift his father had
given him by telling of his faith in the Lord Jesus Christ as
his personal Savior, that really got to me.
My tears were prompted not by
the death of the loved one but by the tears and tender love of
the mourners.
At the graveside of Lazarus, Jesus
watched as the two grieving sisters poured out their heartbreak.
That touched him as nothing else had, and "Jesus wept."
My friend Ian told me the heartrending
story of his father's battle with Alzheimer's. His dad, a retired
pastor who touched so many lives throughout a long ministry, and
whom I have often claimed as my primary mentor, is 81 now and
declining rapidly. He occasionally recognizes his daughter or
one of his three sons, and is still able to talk, but his comprehension
is waning.
Not long ago, Ian's teenage nephew
was killed in a tragic accident. The mother, Ian's sister, asked
him to drive over and break the news to their parents. Soon, other
family members and friends began arriving at the house, hugging,
crying, consoling each other. The one person in the home, however,
who could not understand what was going on was Ian's father, this
precious minister who had comforted so many in similar circumstances
through the decades. At one point, he turned to Ian and with tears
running down his face, said, "I'm sad but I don't know why."
The heartbreak of those he loved
touched him in ways he could not understand or express. That is
so like Jesus.
As he contemplated his own death,
the Apostle Paul found himself torn. "Hard choice! The desire
to break camp here and be with Christ is powerful! Some days I
can think of nothing better. But, most days, because of what you
are going through, I'm sure that it's better for me to stick it
out here." (Philippians 1, The Message)
Lucy Ott died yesterday. She had
worked in Vacation Bible School all this week, and on Friday,
went home from church and went home to Jesus. Family members say
she had needed a treatment to relieve the fluid around her heart,
but had delayed it in order to work with the children at church
this week. She was a lovely lady, always happy to be with the
Lord's people, always radiating His love. I grieve her passing.
But I celebrate her arriving.
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