By Warren Coe
My shoulder was sore so I rubbed that awful mineral ice on the hurting spot. Pushing past the smell, I let the ointment do its work. When I woke up the next morning I was reminded of an undeniable reality in my life—I’m getting old. I stopped short of the morbid prospect that someday I will die.
My elderly friend, Clinton was dying of bone cancer. Because his pain was excruciating, he could no longer shake my hand when I made my pastoral visits. In spite of his pending departure from this world, Clinton was always hopeful. He talked about seeing Jesus Christ face-to-face. Heaven was ever present on his mind. He was a perfect example of a person with a trusting faith in the face of great suffering.
Every time I visited Clinton, he mustered the strength to quote 2 Corinthians 4:16, 17.
For those who trust in Jesus Christ, death does not have the final say. It is like a gate we walk through. John Bunyan in Pilgrim’s Progress saw death as a river we wade through to the other shore. In Christ we overcome. In Christ death is swallowed up in victory. All of us are getting older but in Christ we are being renewed day by day.
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