This afternoon Roger is obviously weaker—much weaker. I will be surprised, if he makes it through the night. Obviously, that call is not mine to make and that is a good thing—a very good thing. Even so, I will be surprised, if his physical earthsuit survives this night.

Thanks to copious amounts of morphine, he is not in pain. He is resting, yet working, as lots of energy is expended simply to inhale and exhale. His heart is racing trying to compensate for the lost energy. The peace of God rests upon Him, the peace that is the result of having peace with God. When a baby passes through its mother’s birth canal in its final effort to reach its new home, it is laborious for both baby and mother; however, when a child of God passes through the canal that leads Home, the transition is made with instantaneous joy—unspeakable joy filled with glory—and peace—the  peace that passes all understanding.

His family gathered around him today to say their “farewells.” It was, indeed, a time of weeping, but it was also a time of release—sweet release. Because of the grace of God they were finally able to see his Home-going as a blessing, as a gift from God. Faith really is the substance of things hoped for and the evidence of things unseen!

Goodbye was not the word I wanted to use, as it is too final; it implies that we might not see each other again. “Until we meet again” seemed more appropriate to me. For some reason, the Holy Spirit reminded me of Peter Marshall’s comment to his wife, as he was being taken out of his house on a gurney, never to return: I will see you in the morning. I do not think she realized just then that he was referring to another Morning, that Eternal Morning where time no longer exists. Goodbye must not have been fitting for him, either.

As I stood beside Roger, leaning close so he could hear me, I was tempted to repeat those words, those “I will see you in the morning” words. Instead, I simply said what came out of my heart, “I love you dear friend.” And summoning all the energy he could muster, he awakened from a deep, morphine induced sleep and looked me in the eyes and whispered, “I love you, too.” Those were what will prove to be his final words to me and mine to him, i.e. until we meet again on that Eternal Morning where time no longer exists.

And I heard, as it were, the voice of a great multitude and as the sound of many waters and as the sound of mighty peals of thunder, saying, ‘Hallelujah!’ For the Lord our God, the Almighty, reigns. Let us rejoice and be glad and give the glory to Him, for the marriage of the Lamb has come and His bride has made herself ready (Revelation 19:6-7).

~Amen