My last blog was about Jodie Rife, a long-time friend who was singing when I last saw him.
      I received the news that Jodie passed into the arms of Jesus last evening.   I haven’t been told of what his passing was like, but I am more than confident that he was singing in his spirit “when the evening came.” 
      I am even more confident that Jodie is now singing in the heavenly choir with the saints. 
     There is a song that has become near to my heart in the last year.  Not knowing my fate in this world might have something to do with it.  I usually don’t quote stuff in these blogs, but today I will.  The song is called “Hymn of Heaven” by Phil Wickham.
 
      The words are very appropriate for today as Jodie’s family and our church deal with the wound of grief.
 
How I long to breathe the air of Heaven
Where pain is gone and mercy fills the streets
To look upon the One who bled to save me
And walk with Him for all eternity
 
And every prayer we prayed in desperation
The songs of faith we sang through doubt and fear
In the end, we'll see that it was worth it
When He returns to wipe away our tears
 
Then the third verse is the one that moves me as I think of Jodie:
And on that day, we join the resurrection
And stand beside the heroes of the faith
With one voice, a thousand generations
Sing, "Worthy is the Lamb who was slain"
 
      In my mind’s eye I can see Jodie standing beside some of the great heroes of our faith, with voice lifted and arms raised.
 
The last verse:
So let it be today we shout the hymn of Heaven
With angels and the saints, we raise a mighty roar
Glory to our God who gave us life beyond the grave
Holy, holy is the Lord
 
      Glory to our God who gave us life beyond the grave.
 
      It is our faith and hope.
 
      It is Jodie’s reality.

      This afternoon Teresa and I went to the hospital to see Jodie.  All indications are that this could be the last time that we would see him in this world.  None of us know when, but God alone.
      Joyce has shared that the last couple of days that Jodie has been listening to music and singing.  He’d sing even without music playing.  That was the case when he saw him.
      Jodie was singing.  We had no clue the song, but it was obvious that he was singing.  I turned to Teresa and Joyce and said, “Let me be singing when I am leaving this world.”  I hope that is the case when my time comes.
      The three of us sang “Victory in Jesus” while holding his hand.
      As we were walking down the hallway to the elevator I thought about a line from a song.   Just a line, not the rest of the song.
 
“Let me be singing when the evening comes.”
 
      The line comes from a song called, “10,000 Reasons” but most folks call it “Bless the Lord.”
 
“Bless the Lord, o my soul, o my soul.
Worship His holy Name.
Sing like never before, o my soul.
I’ll worship His holy name.”
 
      The ending of the first verse is this:
 
“Whatever may pass and whatever lies before me,
Let me be singing when the evening comes.”
 
      As I read the lyrics to the rest of the song, it was more than moving.  I’ve sung them 10s of times.  The third verse will take on a deeper meaning the next time we sing it.
 
“And on that day when my strength is failing.
The end draws near and my time has come.
Still, my soul will sing Your praise unending.
Ten thousand years and then forevermore.”
 
      When the angels come to get Jodie, whenever that may be, I can see him walking through gates singing an unending praise to His Lord.  He has lived his life for that moment.
 
      The beginning of 10,000 years and then forevermore.

     One of the reasons the Lord nudged me to write these blogs has been to give others some insight into my heart and mind.  At times, I haven’t been too thrilled about that.  Other times, like this blog, I simply share how I feel.
 
     Last week Teresa and I traveled to Owensboro to attend the visitation of Bryan’s uncle.  Because funeral and funeral home visits seem to be the places where illnesses spread the most, we were allowed in at the end of the family visitation and before the long line of people waiting to see the family.
 
     Bryan’s uncle was healthy a month or so ago.  He was in his mid 60s, younger than I am.  His illness was a rapidly downward spiral until Jesus took him home.  He was a servant-hearted man who I am sure heard his Lord say when he walked into the gate, “Well, done, good and faithful servant.”
 
     Hundreds of folks had prayed for John’s healing, including us.  Jesus answered our prayer with the ultimate healing, resurrection healing.   But it wasn’t as anyone had hoped.
 
     I stood near his casket, greeting his family, including Bryan’s dad.  It was a very poignant moment for me that likely no one else grasped.  I shared it with Teresa on the way home.
 
     His family greeted me and expressed their appreciation that we had come.  And to a person, each one of them said to me, “We have been praying for you.”  I obviously expressed gratitude for their prayers.
 
     It doesn’t take a rocket scientist nor a theologian to know why this was a troubling moment for me.  I am standing at the casket of a man who is in heaven for whom numerous prayers had been offered for his healing.  And I am still alive.
 
     I don’t think survivor’s guilt is the answer.  There really is no answer to the question of why I am still in this world.   I have asked it before in these blogs, but I still don’t and will never have the answer.  We see in a mirror dimly, but someday face to face.  Now we know in part, but someday we will understand fully.
 
     I hear often, “The Lord isn’t done with you yet.”  Apparently that is true.  I am not sure that helps.
 
     What I do know is this: As long as I am in this world, I will be grateful for each day.  As long as I am in this world, I will seek to be faithful and obedient to God’s leading in my life.  As long as I am in this world, I will love others, beginning with our family.  As long as I live, I will trust the Lord, knowing that His ways are not our ways.
 
     Sometimes, like I am sure has happened with Bryan’s family, we question the Lord when things don’t turn out as we had hoped and prayed.
 
     And sometimes, far more than once, I have questioned when things have turned out far better than expected. 
 
     Lord, we thank You for grace.  Your grace is the answer why any of us are still in this world.

      If you haven’t seen a blog in a while, it is because I haven’t written one.  The Spirit hadn’t moved me, at least until yesterday.  I may have another one or two coming soon.
      I got whacked by God yesterday while doing a good thing.  I received the news that Jodie wasn’t doing well; I had to go see him regardless.  I’ve been fighting a cold, which seems to be a recurring thing.  The weather was in the teens here and our driveway was covered with snow.  I couldn’t get up the driveway until it was cleared.
      I finally got the driveway cleared and eventually headed to the hospital.  I was wearing blue jeans because of the cold weather.  I didn’t look very “pastorish.”
      As I walked the corridor between the parking garage and the hospital the Lord took me back close to 40 years to remember a sin that I had committed.
      It wasn’t something that I had done or even something I hadn’t done.  It was something that I had thought.
      If it was 40 years ago, then I was a young pastor, serving as a youth pastor in a large church.  One of my responsibilities was to make hospital visits twice a week.  I was expected to make those visits wearing a tie.
      I remember this as vividly as if it happened yesterday.  When I walked into the hospital I met another pastor whom I knew quite well.  He was considerably older than I was at the time.  He is now in heaven.
      This pastor had come to the hospital to make visits, just as I had done.  I was wearing a tie; he was wearing blue jeans.
      Into my young, zealous heart the sin came.  I thought, “How in the world could you make hospital visits wearing blue jeans?”  I had no clue about the circumstances. 
      It could have been an emergency that meant that he had to come immediately or it could have too late.  Or maybe it was a person who would have felt far more comfortable if the pastor was wearing jeans rather than a tie.  Why he was wearing jeans wasn’t up to me.
      The Lord reminded me of that self-righteous thought as I walked across the corridor yesterday wearing blue jeans to make a hospital visit.
I asked for forgiveness for my self-righteous heart.  I hope that I have become more like Jesus in the last four decades.
      Self-righteousness is one of the worst sins according to the Bible.  I must be very careful when I pass judgment on another person.  The Holy Spirit does a far better job correcting someone than I can.
      Lord, forgive me when I pass judgment on someone.  May the Spirit “check” me when I have those thoughts.  Even more, may He keep me from responding to those thoughts.
      None of us is righteous enough to cast the first stone.