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death | The Preacher's Pen
A Dying Man’s Wish

A Dying Man’s Wish

Summary

A dying man called a preacher and asked him to visit him in the hospital. He was a man who had left the church and was ready to repent. He was a prodigal son, and he was ready to come home. He had made mistakes and was ready to come back. He was ready to forgive. He was in a much better place. He encouraged his family to go to church and to make things right with God. He passed away a few days later.

 

 

A Dying Man’s Wish

It was a normal day when the phone rang.

I was in the office that morning working on a few details for a lesson I was going to present. When the phone rang, I looked at the caller ID and did not recognize the number. Normally, I would have let it go to voicemail, but this time I answered it.

This would be a phone call; I am glad I never let ring. It would be a moment I never expected.

The voice at the other end of the phone was raspy but powerful. The man asked if I was a minster and if I had time to see him in the hospital. I told him to give me a few moments and I would be down to see him once I got some things ready.

I walked to the house and told Carrie I had to make a visit, but I would be home in a little while. The visit, I told her, would not be long. It was someone in the hospital wanting to talk.

Driving to the hospital, I wondered where this discussion would go. At that point in my ministry, I had several of those calls, and each one was different. Throughout my studies in school, there were worksheets, books, and lectures dealing with this subject, but nothing would prepare you for the actual events. Every situation was always different.

Arriving at the hospital, I made my way down the short hallway to the man’s room. Entering the room, I knocked on the door and he invited me in. After a few moments of the usual hospitality, the discussion changed.

“I need to repent.” He said.

Shocked by his four words, I took a breath.

I had been in this position before, but his words rang deeper than others. He could not look at me. He looked forward when he said those words. After saying them and taking a breath, he gradually turned his head and looked at me. He was not crying, but he wanted to. The look on his face is in my memory to this day.

He was sorrowful.

He was ready to repent.

He knew what he needed to do.

He was a dying man.

It is interesting how death brings something out that remains hidden for years. The thought of leaving this Earth is not for the faint of heart. The emotions it can stir in one’s soul run deep and vast. It opens the thoughts of life, mistakes in the past, choices made, and forgiveness needed.

This man was going through those emotions, as his doctors had told him it would not be long before he took his final breath. The end was near.

The brief visit turned into a lengthy one. We talked about his upbringing in the church and how he left the church. He was a prodigal son.

The story of Luke 15 is a challenging reminder of how the troubles of life bring renewed thoughts. As the prodigal son, a Jewish man, sat and desire to eat the same food as the pigs, his eyes were opened. He would have to swallow his pride before he got up to walk home. His pride kept him from staying at home. It was pride in his own knowledge and in his own choices that caused him to leave home.

Now, he would have to lay his pride down. He was ready. He was willing.

Eventually, the young prodigal son of Luke 15 went home.

The older man talking to me that day was ready to go home. He had realized the harm of his mistakes. He had realized his choices pulled him away from God. He was ready to come home, but first, he needed to swallow his own pride.

He told me of his early childhood in church. He told me of the influence of his parents taking him to church. He knew those times in his life were good times. He spoke to me of his baptism in his teenage years. He spoke of being washed in the blood and how his life was going well.

The more we talked, the more he spoke of his family. I learned about his family history and his current family problems. As he sat alone in that hospital room, the family did not come to see him. In fact, they did not know what time he had left. After his wife died, things were different.

As we talked, the older man calmed. His anxiousness at asking a preacher to pray for him at the beginning had subsided. Now, we were friends.

Having spoken about his family, he turned back to what he wanted… forgiveness.

About this time in my ministry, I had been in a situation like this many times, but this older man was as blunt as they came. He had not been to church in years, but he remembered the Bible. He would not leave this hospital to attend services again, because his life was almost over.

So, what do you do?

How do you respond to a man who wants God’s forgiveness when knows his breaths are going to stop in the next few days?

What did I do? I prayed.

We spoke of God’s love and mercy when we acknowledge our mistakes. We spoke of God’s grace when we spoke of our rebellions. We spoke of God.

When we prayed, I spoke the words, but he followed along. When I was done, my eyes opened, and I looked at him. His eyes were still closed. He was concentrating. He had lived a hard life (by choice and consequence) and now he had found forgiveness once again.

After a little while longer, he said he needed to get some rest. When I left, I paused at the door and turned back. His eyes were already closed, but what I noticed more was the anxiousness that had left his body.

He was no longer anxious about leaving this world to meet his Creator, but he was at peace.

The next few days that I came to visit, he was in better spirits and joyful. His voice was still powerful, yet joy replaced the nervousness. Physically, he was not healed. He was still dying. But spiritually, he was in a much better place.

I was there on and off for the next few days, and I was even there when I got to meet his family. I met his son, his daughter-in-law, and his grandchildren. Finally, they realized the situation they were not expecting. However, when I met them, I was introduced as “the preacher.”

I spent hours in those days talking with him and with them about life and listening to their stories. But in the middle of it all, the older man told them of my discussion with him. He told them he had made amends with God, and he was forgiven. He shared his spiritual difficulties. He told them he was sorry.

He encouraged them to go to church, to make things right with God, and to live a life he knew was the one that really mattered. His dying body was spiritually new. The teaching he had hidden for years was now made known to them.

A few days after my first visit, the older man gently left this world in the night and went home. His family called me and told me he had passed.

The family asked me to do the funeral since I was the closest preacher he knew. Even on a sad occasion, I could tell of the stories he had told me and how he had found forgiveness again.

Sometimes I think about his family. I wonder if they ever took his words to heart. I know they heard them because I heard him speak to them. I just don’t know if they comprehended them.

For the next few months, I stayed connected with them, but they had no desire for spiritual things. It was as if they too thought they were a long way away from needing them. This was one fear of the older man as we talked on that first day. He knew his example was not the right one in past years and he wanted them to know what he should have done.

It has been several years since that phone call, but one thing he said remains with me until this day. On that first visit, after we had talked for a while, he told me something that confounded me. He told me he had called the area churches, and I was the only one that came to visit.

“…the only one that came to visit.”

Even writing those words today conjures up emotions. I could not believe that after all those calls, I was the one that showed up.

In case you are wondering, there were others that answered his call, but they never came. Some even told him they would come. Honestly, I hope something changed that held them up. I even hope it was something drastic but not tragic, like a car that would not start or a sudden bout of the flu.

I am thankful I picked up the phone that day. I am thankful I could go; even if I was the only one that went.

The story of those few days was a big impression on a younger preacher. I learned a few things from this older man as he reflected on his life.

I learned there is still time.

No matter what you did, have done, or regret, there is still time. If you are taking a breath, there is time to be that prodigal son and come home again.

The walk home may not be easy. In fact, it will not be, but it will be worth it. I can only imagine what it was like for the prodigal son to return home. He left his family with the idea of never returning. He had more money on his hands than ever before. He was going away and nothing the father did could stop him.

Once the prodigal son took his first step out of the house, the momentum of leaving grew greater. I imagine the momentum was stronger once he was in a distant land. As he entered the land, he did not know; I expect the grass seemed greener on the other side. Not only was he in a land that he did not know; he was in a land where people did not know him. No matter what he did, no one was going to go home and tell his family of his dire condition.

With new money comes new friends. Every lottery winner has experienced the sudden arrival of new friends once the announcement was made. This young man of Luke 15 was experiencing the same arrival of new friends. But, once the money was gone, so were the friends. Friends arriving because of money will be friends who depart with the money.

The prodigal son was stuck. The money was gone and so were his friends. The only thing to do was to find the one job he was glad his family did not know he was doing. In fact, we never hear him speak of this job once he is home.

As a Jew, pigs were disgusting. They were unclean. They were not worthy of being eaten, taken care of, or even looked at. Now, he was feeding the pigs. His life had taken a drastic turn.

However,… he was still breathing.

He had an opportunity to go home.

The journey must have been long as he thought about the words he would say to his father. The emotions of disappointment must have been great. As he practiced those words, he drew closer to home.

He was still breathing, and he still had the opportunity to come home, and he did.

My friend was still breathing, and he had decided to come home… and he did.

Family will be your harshest critics, but God will be your greatest forgiver. God sees what your family cannot see; He sees the real you. He does not see the past; He sees your need. He sees you ready to come home and ready to be home.

We all think our families should be our biggest supporters, but that is not always the case. Even as a minister, our families may not always be our biggest supporters. Typically, our families will see the mistakes of the past and they will think of those instead of seeing the change in our lives.

Note: By families, I do not mean our spouse and our children, even though that may sometimes happen. Our families, since birth, have seen our mistakes, failures, and know all the things they saw as you were growing up. Their tendency is to think of the past instead of the present, or even the future. While they want the best, many times, they do not have the best beliefs for your future. As an example, consider the older brother in the parable of the Prodigal Son. (Luke 15)

When family are your harshest critics, you must continue to work on yourself. God believes in you because He sent His Son to die for you. When the world, our friends, and even our family lack faith, God does not. He gave you the gift of His Son for a reason. That reason is His hope that you will join Him in Heaven for eternity.

As my friend found out, it took his death for his family to finally realize what was happening. It took a drastic measure for them to understand that he would no longer be with this. While death for my friend made him look at life differently, when the reality hit, his family looked at it differently as well.

If you are in a position where your family cannot see the new you, or even your bright future, you must keep being you. You must take advantage of the gift of the Almighty God and know that He loves you and He wants you to come home.

The first commandment in the Bible is to “Love the Lord God with all your heart, your mind, your strength, and your souls. The second is like it, love your neighbor as yourself.” It is hard to love our neighbor as ourselves if we do not know how to love who we are.

You must love yourself so you can love others. God’s love in your life should be realized and comprehended by you. Other people may tell you about it, but you need to realize it. You are the reason you have the opportunity. God desires all men to come to a knowledge of repentance and come to the truth; this means you.

God wants you to come home.

I am glad I answered the phone that day.

I am glad I met my friend.

Just some thoughts,

 

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What Would Yours Say?

What Would Yours Say?

On November 16, 2020, Radio France International made a blunder that made people laugh, yet they questioned why such a mistake would occur. The mistake also got people thinking, “I wonder what mine would say?”

Someone made a mistake and posted close to 100 obituaries on the Radio France International website. It does not sound like a mistake until you know those people were not dead.  The obituaries included people such as Clint Eastwood, soccer legend Pele, and even Queen Elizabeth.

Within a few hours, readers let the website know of the error and the pre-written obituaries were taken down.  Later, an apology note was posted to help clear up the error.

To think that someone is writing obituaries before a person passes away might sound odd, or even morbid, but it happens each day. Each of us are writing our own obituary as we live each day. Our lives are in constant motion and people will remember our lives, no matter what the written words say.

This mistake on the Radio France International website should serve as a remind that we are writing our obituaries as we live, but also, our death in this life is certain. So, here are a few questions to think about…

  • What would your obituary say?
  • How do you want to be remembered by your family?
  • How do you want to be remembered by your friends?
  • How do you want to be remembered by those who read your obituary?

But most important, no matter who remembers you, will they remember you as a shining light for Christ? Will they remember you as a Christian?

Just some thoughts,

Signature File

A Funeral for a Man I Do Not Know

A Funeral for a Man I Do Not Know

A few days ago, the church phone rang. A local funeral home was calling for a family requesting a church of Christ minister to perform a funeral, and the funeral would be the next day.

Over my brief years in ministry, this situation has happened various times. A loved one dies and it leaves the family with hard decisions, but many of those are quick decisions. Typically, without knowledge of an area, the family reaches out to a funeral home and asks them if they can find a minister. A few days ago, the call came to me.

Typically, these calls are unique. The one who passed may not have family in the immediate area, and the family needs some help. Other times, the family is unfamiliar with churches in the area, so they ask the funeral home to pick one. Still other times, like this one, the family is specific with their requests.

After clearing some time and moving some things around, I spoke with a member of the family regarding the loved one. He spoke of the quick decisions they needed to make in such a short period. Family would come in from another state, local friends may show up, but they were not sure. It was a confusing time for them.

Funerals are one of the difficult things to process in a time of a loved one’s death. There are decisions needing to be made, but the overwhelming thought of making those decisions, the cost and the time arrangements can be difficult.

Emotions run high at times like this. Families might see each other for the first time in many months or even years. Travel plans have been made as quickly as possible and the hope is everyone makes it and keeps it together.

When I arrived at the funeral home, the mood was quiet. Various family members scattered throughout the viewing room were talking and catching up on old times. Some sat quiet; possibly in thought of the man lying in the casket. Still others were just there. Their facial expressions held no emotion. It was almost like it was a formality.

There are situations you talk about when getting an education to prepare you for those future moments, but there was never a course on how to handle situations like this. What is a preacher to say? How does a minister conduct a funeral of someone he does not know?

To add to the confusion for a moment, there was no obituary. The family had decided against one.

Typically, a preacher can gain some insights from an obituary. It lists the occupation, the family, hobbies, church affiliation or even a passing thought; but without an obituary, there is not much there.

So, what do you say in a time like this?

With no insights from the family, all I had to go on was a name, a birth date, and ending date and a church affiliation.

The morning before the funeral I poured over thoughts, articles and information about the eyes of this man’s life. The information was massive. The advancements in technology during his lifetime were staggering. The world events were historic.

The man was born 24 days after the bombing of Pearl Harbor. He grew up in the shadow of World War II. When he was 10 years old, the first coast-to-coast phone call was made in our country. He experienced the excitement as man Alan Shepard soared into space to become the first man in orbit. He would watch with others and man set foot on the moon. He would see prosperity and recession.  His life would see many things.

Religiously, I know he attended church around here. His son, in a brief conversation, told me of growing up at a congregation near me. He spoke of his father’s attendance.

As the service began, I spoke of the times of the man’s upbringing and how things were different throughout his life. How many of the things he probably experienced seem odd to us today, yet he continued through those times.

Psalm 28 became my text. While some focus on Psalm 23, the end of Psalm 28 speaks volumes to someone who follows God.

Blessed be the Lord!
For he has heard the voice of my pleas for mercy.

The Lord is my strength and my shield;
in him my heart trusts, and I am helped;
my heart exults,
and with my song I give thanks to him.

The Lord is the strength of his people;
he is the saving refuge of his anointed.
Oh, save your people and bless your heritage!
Be their shepherd and carry them forever.

(Psalm 28.6-9; ESV)

What encouraging words of David as he speaks of the exceptional power and saving grace of God toward His people. David knew first-hand the protection and the mercy God has upon those who are His children.

While you are speaking, looking out over an audience wearing masks has been odd. It is difficult to read facial expressions because over half of a person’s face is covered.  Preaching has been unique in this regard, but this funeral was a little more unique.

As I spoke of the protection of God, I noticed no tears. No one seemed to be emotional about the passing of this man. Instead, it was a little eerie.

Typically, you can still see people’s eyes and you can see them tear up or wipe their eyes, but not that day. No one made a sound. There was not even an allergy sniffle. You can blame it on Covid-19 the Coronavirus or whatever you want, but it was unique.

After the service was over, no one spoke. I spoke with the son one more time. He thanked me for my time and I told him it was my honor. Everyone went to their cars.

Driving home, my mind raced of the oddity that I had just experienced. What if that was my family?

Was there some big event that happened among the family and I did not know about?

Maybe everyone had already grieved and the funeral was a time of closure for them?

Maybe everyone was just in shock of the passing?

What if the family had no relationship with each other and they did not know how to act?

Maybe this man and said his goodbyes and gave the family a word of peace before he departed this life?

What if the family genes had no tear glands?

I was grasping at anything to make the situation better. Even today, several days removed from the event, it still crosses my mind.

I wonder what it will be like when one of my family members passes? Will the family show up? Will we stare at each other? Will we tear up knowing that someone has left the Earth?

What will it be like at my funeral? Will my children show up and talk? Will they give an emotional tear to me leaving this life? Will anyone even notice?

These questions are what some struggle with their entire life. I have seen it first hand in the lives of Christians and non-Christians. I have watched people hold on until the last moment because they did not know what would happen after they passed.

I have heard people tell their families to get along after they are gone. I have been asked to help families stay together after someone leaves the Earth.

Death is a mysterious event. For some, it is a blessing. For others, it is scary. Some cry on their way to the other side and others scream until they cannot scream anymore. It is just a mysterious event that each one of us will go through at some point.

How do you handle death?

The recent events of a man I did not know made my mind spin. I wonder about his family, his life, his last moments.

Being in ministry for 23 years now, I have learned a few things. One of those things being, you can learn much about a person or a group of people at a major life event; birth, death, baptism, etc. You can see how a family reacts and responds and see the relationship they have or have had.

My thought today is this, how is your family?

Some families will only be together at a funeral home. It might be a tragic event that brings them close.

My appeal to you is not to let that be the only time your family gathers.

Don’t let your next gathering be an oddity at the passing of a family member.

Just my thoughts,

Signature File

“Around the Corner”

“Around the Corner”

Several years ago I ran across this poem and have found it to be a reminder of how quickly life happens. Let us use today and contact those around us to lift them up and see how we can assist them.


Around the corner I have a friend,

In this great city that has no end;

Yet days go by and weeks rush on,

And before I know it, a year is gone,

And I never see my old friend’s face.

For life is a swift and terrible race.

He knows I like him just as well

As in the days when I rang his bell

And he rang mine. We were younger then,

And now we are busy, tired men:

Tired of playing a foolish game,

Tired of trying to make a name.

“Tomorrow,” I say, “I will call on Jim

just to show that I am thinking of him.”

But tomorrow comes—and tomorrow goes,

And the distance between us grows and grows.

Around the corner!—yet miles away …

“Here’s a telegram, Sir,”… “Jim died today.”

And that’s what we get and deserve in the end:

Around the corner, a vanished friend.

—Charles Hanson Towne


“For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes.” (James 4:14; ESV)

Just some thoughts,

Super Bowl Sunday 2002

Super Bowl Sunday 2002

Since the football season and the Super Bowl is now past, I thought I would share with you how one particular Super Bowl changed my passion for life.

My passion changed because God was gracious.

In 2002, I sat in the cardiac critical care unit of the Jackson-Madison County Hospital in Jackson, Tennessee watching the Super Bowl. There were about a million other places I would like to have been, but I could not. I had to be at the hospital.

To make a long story short, by the time the Super Bowl had begun I had been at the hospital for about 17 hours watching numbers bounce around on monitors – my monitors.

When I first came to the hospital, I was diagnosed with a heart attack, and the severity of the diagnosis was only made more significant with the doctor’s choice of words,

“Mr. Gallagher, on a scale of 1 to 10, with 10 being a massive heart attack, you have had an 8.5.”

With those words, I looked at Carrie, my bride of five years, and my daughter Alexis, one and a half years old. I felt my world come crashing to a halt with one sentence. Nothing else mattered except the two people sitting in front of me.

From that moment until seventeen hours later, everything was as smooth sailing as the heart attack diagnosis would allow. Then it happened!

As I was watching the Super Bowl, a laser-sharp pain drove itself into my chest. Despite all the blood thinners, morphine and needles jammed into my arm and stomach, along with whatever else the nurses were throwing at me, the pain grew stronger.

Finally, the room began to draw dark. It was the blackness of tunnel vision I had read about before.

While the room faded to black, I said my prayer, asked God to take of my family and turned my thoughts to Carrie and Alexis. As I closed my eyes, I waited.

I waited to see someone from the other side of life, but I never did. When my eyes finally closed shut and milliseconds had passed, I heard the words I dreaded (but needed) to hear, “Get the cart!”

I knew what “the cart” meant, and that was all I needed. I was going to be subjected to the power of two electric paddles jolting through my body to bring my back to life. Upon hearing two words, “the cart,” my thoughts were, “ABSOLUTELY NOT!”

The next few moments are hidden deep where only God knows; maybe I blacked out, maybe my heart stopped beating, or maybe I have simply forgotten, but my mind is blank. All I remember is hearing a nurse say my name, pull on my big toe and ask me if I was still around. I casually said, “Yes.”

When opened my eyes, I saw it – the cart. It was sitting at the side of the bed with the power levels on full. Seconds more and I would have been shocked, but God was good!

The next day brought a heart catheterization followed by the good and bad news:

Good news: No blockage, no damage, nothing. My arteries were clean.

Bad news: The doctors could not explain what happened, but I was informed that if I had not been in the hospital my life would have ended.

Well, I could explain what happened, prayer! The Bible says the “effective, fervent prayer of a righteous man avails much.” Believe me, it does!

I knew there was someone higher than my doctors that day. The One who made my heart was holding it together.

I was sent home with a diagnosis of pericarditis and/or myocarditis. If you Google those words, you will see how fortunate I am after 16 years.

After a barrage of test over a six month period, I had my diagnosis, “We don’t know. It might have been a heart attack. It might have been a virus. We do not know.”

Comforting, huh?

I was told to come back in a year and go through more tests. I left the doctor’s office with two orders:

  1. Do not get sick
  2. Get the flu shot

I told them I would do the second and try my best for the first one.

After a year, I came back and went through tests again. Guess what? They still did not know. I was told that I was “normal” and to keep living. Comforting, huh?

In 2005, we moved to South Carolina and our new family doctor, and I had a chat about my 2002 heart attack incident. After examing all of my records, our new family doctor told me that I did not have a heart attack, but probably “viral cardiomyopathy.”

Did you notice that? Not for sure, but probably. There is a big difference in those words.

While I do not know the “whys,” the “hows,” or much else regarding that Super Bowl Sunday, I do know this: God was there, and He blessed me when I deserved no blessing.

My passion changed that day!

My passion for my work grew stronger.

My passion to see my family after this life abounds more and more each day.

My desire to assist others to achieve success grew stronger. The intensity to aid others in living better each day became a purpose.

It is odd how life changes events affect your future.  I left a hospital and several doctor’s offices without any answer. I am content no to have an answer and even more content with what it could have been; viral cardiomyopathy.

My passion changed from everything to one thing – HOPE!

There is hope even when we see no hope!  Many times, hope will appear when you are not looking.  Hope is not a word for wishing; it is expecting confidently what you cannot see.

The present reality is nothing to be compared to the boundless hope of future opportunities. The end which awaits is greater than the present beginning.

Spiritually speaking, your changing life will be met by a changeless hope, because of a changeless God.

The hope of a better life is met with the opportunity for it to be better – all you have to do is look!

Look not at yourself in a mirror, but see the reflection of God. The sunrise reveals his overnight work. The sunset gives light to the day’s hidden stars and their desire to shine.

“The heaven’s declare the glory of God…” (Psalm 19.1)

Look at people around you!

God created each one and placed eternity in your heart. (Ecclesiastes 3.11) Each one is created as he saw fit; there is no “normal.” The only “normal” we should see is the image of the invisible God. (Genesis 1.26)

We have been provided by our Creator with abilities and inabilities given to us to take advantage of the opportunities He provides. God has hardwired each of us with the free will to make choices, goals, and dreams.

Even though our outward appearance remains different, the inner man is renewed day by day if we look set our affection on things above. (2 Corinthians 4.16; Colossians 3.2)

Normal is not found in the physical, but in the spiritual. The spiritual promise of God is success through Him.

My friends, my passion changed because of a stark reality – there is something greater than this world. I knew it for years, preached it countless times, but until God truly took control, things would never be where they are.

My faith and trust in Him became the beat of my heart. The countless hours of wonder brought renewed vigor and faith because He cares.

He cares for you too.

His care reaches the untouchable part of our souls and reaches to the top of our heads. His hands are at work in our lives providing us opportunities and strength, through His Only Son – Jesus.

Many have asked why I want to share a message of hope in a hopeless world, well, now you know!

Find your passion through the God who offers His care and see what your life can become!

For the record, my permanent record shows heart attack. I have taken a few tests since then, and my heart is very healthy. Doctors have told me there is no lasting damage, no sign I ever had a heart attack, and the muscle looks great.

I have been blessed.

I am thankful to many for their visits, calls, cards, food, prayers and so much more during that troubling time of 2002. It is an experience I remember way too often, but I am glad I can remember it.

Anyway, this is one reason I am so insistent on why living life matters.

Just my story and just my thoughts,