Nearing Home Billy Graham (thriller novels to read TXT) 📖

of myself; I had no more control over my life. I felt lost in my own house. The home health care attendant who has been coming would patiently read to me, sometimes from the Bible: “There is none righteous, no, not one” [Romans 3:10 NKJV]; “Now set your heart and your soul to seek the LORD your God” [1 Chronicles 22:19 NKJV]; and “for the Son of man has come to seek and to save that which was lost” [Luke 19:10 NKJV].’ That moment, for me, will never fade. When I met the dear lady who had faithfully led my mother to the Lord, I was stunned at her vitality of life. She was the same age as my mother. It gave me great comfort to know that God will use us—no matter our age—to minister to others if we make ourselves available.”

The Bible says that “a true witness delivers souls” (Proverbs 14:25 NKJV). The living never run out of opportunity; the question is, do we take advantage of the opportunities that come to us as this home health care worker did? Sometimes death comes suddenly and unexpectedly. “I didn’t even have a chance to say good-bye” is a lament I must have heard dozens of times. Even more tragic is the knowledge that you missed that last chance to share the Gospel.

As people grow older, the less surprised we are by their deaths, which often come only after an extended period of declining health. There even may be time for family members to gather and be with the dying person in the final hours. That is the way it was with Ruth. “Her body is beginning to shut down,” her doctor told me frankly. “Her death may still be some days away, but the process has begun, and you need to be prepared.” Two weeks later we gathered around her bedside as her breathing grew more shallow. I was seated by Ruth’s bedside holding her hand, and our daughter Anne was standing beside me. Suddenly Anne said, “She is in Heaven.” Her breathing had stopped, and her hand slipped from mine. Her years of suffering were over; Ruth had entered her final home.

Memories of those final months will remain with me the rest of my life: her growing frailty, her suffering, her expressions of love, our times of prayer, her certainty—and even joy—that soon she would be in the presence of the Lord she had loved and served for so many years. As I think back over those days, the familiar words of Psalm 23 come to me with new meaning, for they exemplify Ruth’s confidence as she sensed her time on earth was drawing to a close: “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. . . . Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the LORD for ever” (vv. 4, 6 KJV).

LIVING WITH GRIEF

As I write this it has been four years since Ruth went home to be with the Lord. I feel her loss more keenly now. Not a day passes that I don’t imagine her walking through my study door or us sitting together on our porch as we did so often, holding hands as the sun set over the mountaintops.

I have asked myself why this is the case; after all, shouldn’t our grieving over the loss of a loved one fade as time passes? Yes, it should—and in some ways it has for me. But in other ways it hasn’t, nor do I expect it to. One reason, I think, is because my strongest memory at the time of her death was of her last days—her weakness, her pain, her yearning for Heaven. Much as I longed to have her stay with us, I also knew that for her, death would be a welcome release from the burdens of this life. But with the passing of time, memories of the happiness we shared over more than sixty-three years of marriage come to mind. I remember our last years together as my travels lessened and we had more time just to be together. Those were some of the best years of our lives—almost as if we were falling in love again. And with those memories has come a deeper sense of loss.

The other reason I still feel her death so deeply, I think, is because mingled with my grief is a new sense of expectancy—the certain knowledge that someday soon the Lord will come for me also, and before long Ruth and I will be reunited in Heaven. More than ever, I look forward to that day!

GRIEVING OUR LOSSES

Grief is a reality; those who say that we shouldn’t grieve the loss of loved ones “because they’re better off now” have never understood the enormous hole that is left in our hearts when loved ones die. Yes, they may be better off if they are in Heaven—but we aren’t better off. A major part of our lives has been ripped from us, and just as it takes time to heal from a major surgery, so it takes time to heal from the loss of loved ones. Paul’s words to the believers in Thessalonica are true: “We do not . . . grieve like the rest of men, who have no hope” (1 Thessalonians 4:13). But we still grieve, and that is as it should be. Jesus wept as He stood by the tomb of His friend Lazarus even though He knew that shortly He would bring Lazarus back to life (John 11:35).

My experience may not be the same as yours may be, but grief comes eventually to us all. You may not have been touched as yet by the death of your spouse; you may not even have experienced the death of anyone close to you, such as