This life is not the end of all things

I know a man who lives in Shreveport, La., who is going to die in a very short time. He is in his 90s. When I last visited with him, his mind was clear and active. His faith is unquenchable. How I wish there was someone who had the time to visit him and chronicle all of the exciting moments of his life. I have come to love this guy for who he is and what he stands for.

He recently went to the hospital because of some heart issues. After numerous tests and several days of seeing multiple doctors, all of the doctors met with him to go over the results. Being honest, they pointed out that there were at least two things they could do to help his aging heart, but because of his circumstances neither of them was possible. Then, they began to stammer and eventually mentioned hospice. That’s when my friend, quickly recognizing what was happening, interrupted and said, “I know what you doctors are trying to tell me. You want to tell me that I am dying and that I am at the end of my days, but let me clarify the situation. For me, it is not the end of my days; it is the beginning of my life, for in a very short time, I will begin my eternal life with my Lord and Savior in heaven. It is not a time for sadness, but for rejoicing.”

Needless to say, all of the doctors were stunned. They were attempting to minister to my friend, but he ministered to them.

Beginning hospice, a chaplain came by to see him, and explained that he was a “Full Gospel Baptist.”

Again, my friend, knowing what was behind the visit, inquired, “I’ve heard a lot about various denominations, but what is a “Full Gospel Baptist?” Suddenly, the chaplain found himself unable to answer, and my friend continued, “The only gospel I know is the Son of God born of Mary, the good news of salvation, His death on the cross, His

resurrection, and salvation for all who will believe. Is there something else I should know about?” Indeed, there wasn’t, so the chaplain simply accepted defeat and affirmed the “Full Gospel” of the Bible.

After visiting with my friend, I asked if I could have prayer with him, and he readily agreed. I prayed for God to open up the blessings of His eternity, and to touch my friend with strength during the dying process and a faith that goes beyond the here and now. I thanked God

for our friendship and the promise that we would meet again sometime in heaven. As I closed, my friend reached out and took my hand and gave the most uplifting prayer for me, my wife, and those close to him in a way I will never forget. When he said “amen,” I simply bowed my head and said, “And that, my friend, is the full gospel.”

Although a person may be assigned to hospice six months before he or she dies, it is far more common for doctors to wait until the

last few weeks before doing so. That probably means my friend will have gone to his eternal resting place by the time this article is published. It also means that I will never see him again here on earth, but the time will come when we will once again sit down and commune as friend to friend.

Christians have both their personal relationship to Jesus Christ and the promise of the Biblical teachings that this life is not the end of all things, that there is a life after death that is far more glorious

and exciting than anything on earth, and the assurance that someday they will be taken home to be with the Lord. But having said that, it is not often a person finds the faith and strength to die gracefully. Transitioning from this life to heaven is not easy; it is painful. The people working in hospice do a great job these days in helping people live the last days of their lives free of pain and distress, but the transition is still difficult.

It has been my privilege to have been with a number

of people who have died gracefully, knowing that “to be absent from this body means being at home with the Lord (II Corinthians 5:8), but the number is small. But for those times, like the time I spent with my friend, these are “Holy Moments” and will not be forgotten.