Now What?

It’s not the way I would have wanted it, but my friend of many years was in the hospital Intensive Care Unit having suffered a serious and very unexpected heart attack. I visited when I could, but wanted to make sure his wife and family were not crowded out during visiting hours. I had known Brian since Primary School and Sunday School, and in those early years we were inseparable. As sometimes happens, life steps in and although we stayed friends, we didn’t see each other as much outside of the very occasional church service at weddings and funerals etc..

We were regular church goers, but nowadays only just. Unlike the old days when we were a fixture in serious faith and attendance. Now we were what is called ‘nominal Christians’, but the seed had been sown and we both knew “the way” to the Father’s heart. Brian was in a small room of four patients, each one in ICU and getting the best treatment, but it was evident in all the beds lay a man, suspended between life and death. Unfortunately for the other patients, and even the staff, one of the needy was an ‘aggressive atheist’ and he was very vocal about there being no God, and if He existed, He was never any good to him. He blamed everything on God from his occasional cold, to the serious circumstances which brought him to this hospital ward, and everything in between.

Brian never could suffer fools gladly, but anytime I was there, he remained very composed and quiet, and only responded quietly when a barb was directed straight at him. One night I was putting some fruit into his little bedside cabinet when I noticed a small Bible. That took me right back to the times we would talk endlessly about our faith in Jesus Christ and how much He meant to us. As I left the visit to allow Brian’s wife to spend the last part of the time with him, I could still hear the other man shouting at God, and swearing at anyone who looked like they would listen. The noise followed me down the corridor and only stopped when I got into the lift.

Maria called me early next morning with the news that her husband had passed away, quietly, peacefully, and surrounded by his wife, family and the old, now retired Pastor whom we respected and who had helped to lead us to the salvation that only God can give. Maria confided in me the last words of her husband. He had been talking and praying with the old, saintly Pastor, and Brian told him with a broad smile that he prayed for the first time in years. “I just said I’m sorry God, would you please forgive me”? While this was happening, the aggressive atheist’s life was ebbing away too. He died cursing God with his last breath. Now my question remains: “Now What?” Is the sinner’s prayer ever too late? Does this remind you of anything in another place and time?

One of the criminals hanging beside him scoffed, “So you’re the Messiah, are you? Prove it by saving yourself—and us, too, while you’re at it!” But the other criminal protested, “Don’t you fear God even when you have been sentenced to die? We deserve to die for our crimes, but this man hasn’t done anything wrong.” Then he said, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your Kingdom.” And Jesus replied, “I assure you, today you will be with me in paradise.” Luke23:39-43

Not Yet

I hadn’t seen my brother and sister for some time. It has been years since we had fallen out, and even now the reasons are hazy. They were real at the time I am sure because there was a real bust up. In fact more than a few of them which left indelible marks on our hearts, but I wish I could remember what it was all about. It all seems so long ago, and for a long time I had reached a point where it didn’t bother me any more. Especially after trying to make amends and hitting that brick wall. Truth is, I was part of the cause, and now I was isolated and paying the price for my actions. I always taught my own children that actions have consequences, so to be sure that our words and deeds always had good motives, because ‘family is everything’.

I was a Christian and felt that I had lived a good life. That is until the family split some years ago. I did try to apologise, but maybe not with enough feeling or conviction. In fact my family members who felt wronged, were Christians too. What a mess.

As I took the time to lift my head from my hands, I saw it again. The coffin. A dark wood to match the dark mood in the room. I was sitting on one side of the room on my own, and I could make out through the tears, the faces of my siblings just over the top of the closed casket. They were weeping too. This wasn’t supposed to happen. We should have had more time. Time to eventually put things right, but it never quite worked out. Mum and Dad were always there for us all, and they hurt for our differences over the years. They prayed for us all, and now my dad wasn’t ever going to see any end to his children’s childish squabbling. It hurt and pained him deeply, and now there was no way to make things right for him.

Mum sat over to the side of the room, partway between her children, all grown up adults, still behaving like the children they are. We were all wrapped up in our own griefs, and regrets. Regrets which were so avoidable. We claimed to be a Christian family but we couldn’t do the basic act of forgiveness. It was too hard we convinced ourselves, and anyway, God would understand we believed. That was easier than taking the step to be vulnerable and to ask for, and receive forgiveness. Jesus taught His disciples how to pray near the start of His ministry, and it is no accident that He included the selfless act of forgiveness. In fact He said if we don’t forgive, He would not forgive us. What a sobering thought. He said It is that important!

The organ started to play dad’s favourite hymn, and we all rose to our feet in respect, reverence, and awe. Dad was gone, mum was in a flood of tears, and as I looked around I realised that we were all out of time. As I found the haunting words ‘not yet’ on my lips and heart, I suddenly awoke with a throbbing heartache and in a real body sweat. It was a horrible dream, but oh so true. How much time do I really have I wondered? Was God giving me a message? Was the much needed and overdue heart change and spirit of forgiveness supposed to start in me? Why does it have to be me I muttered, and then I stopped dead. Dead. The thought was true, the dream was real. My plea, my tearful prayer to God was, and remains ‘not yet’. Please God give me the time I need, take the heart of stone from me and replace it with a heart of flesh. My parents were ageing, but please Lord, they were ready to meet You, but NOT YET for mum!!! There are some important things I need to do first before night falls and we are cut off!

We must quickly carry out the tasks assigned us by the one who sent us. The night is coming, and then no one can work. John 9:4 NLT