I have something important to share with you. You might feel a little uncomfortable, but it must be said. Please bear with me. Drink something warm to help make the hearing of it more palatable.
Most humans are reluctant to talk about anything to do with the “d” word. Men, in particular, seem to think discussing wills, burial plots, and last wishes is gruesome conversation and makes the inevitable call to Glory more imminent. Even though that is a curious response and worthy of deeper investigation; the reality remains ever true: we all die. Correction -- our bodies die. We live forever.
Considering the Lord’s admonition to his children to go into all the world and spread the gospel of Jesus Christ, our natural instincts lean towards leaving that job up to professional missionary types. Those wonderful folks who abandon hearth and home and travel around the earth under the auspices of a church or other missions organization are at the top of my list in respect and honor. Recently, some precious ones have come into my life and I embrace them with love and awe. This is not about them. It is about YOU. It is about ME.
When someone is telling about a friend or relative who is quite ill and may die, I invariably ask, “Have they accepted the Lord?” It is amazing how many times the answer is, “Well, as far as I know. They have gone to blah-blah church all their lives.” Another response is, “I don’t want to ask and insult them, and besides, they have their own beliefs.” The scariest is, “They don’t want to hear about anything religious and I don’t want to make them mad at me.”
Whoa, brother and sister! Back up the church bus. This is big stuff here. This is ETERNITY! Life on earth is a vapor. It goes so fast the end will be hitting us all in the face and we’ll be fretting, “Oh no, it’s time, and I’m not ready.” Believe me on this one. I am old and I know for sure.
In the past two weeks, I have stood by the casket of a very dear one and stared into a peaceful face I loved with all my heart. That person is free of pain and misery and is worshipping at the feet of the Savior. Through selfish tears, I still shout, “Hallelujah!”
I have the deceased one’s Bible and have read the notes extolling the joy of knowing. What a comfort that is. Who will be reading the scribblings in your Bible? I ask myself the same question and have begun making pointed comments and highlighting in mine for the express purpose of leaving a treasure, a statement, a teaching to whomever reads it.
Until the end of time, humanity will need what I call major missionaries-- the terrific people who literally answer the call to go around the earth and take God’s Word. Please consider how much your world may just need you to respond as a minor one. (There were major and minor prophets, so why not?)
Even if the “d” word is too creepy for you, and even if the silliness of Halloween and ghost stories is scary, and even if you just don’t believe you can face thinking about what comes next, I beseech you to take a deep breath and make yourself consider consequences that affect you and others. When compared to the alternative possibility, a little embarrassment or anxiety is a small price to pay.
Our dedicated and hard working official majors can’t get to all the lost. Some of us minors need to take up the slack and back them up. Repeat after me, “Starting today, I can reach one at a time. I can make a difference in someone’s forever.”
I am asking if you will please go into your world and help with fulfilling the Great Commission the way our Father instructed? You and I are micro-missionaries. The clock is ticking. There isn't much time. We can do this. I have faith.
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