“I’m kinda left to die, and it’s hard to do.”
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It was Friday morning October 2, 1999, and I was busy studying about heaven.
Monday and Friday are days I leave totally clear to study and prepare for Sunday. So there I was immersed in jottings, books and commentaries piled high on the table when the phone rang. As usual I had no idea of who it would be or what they would want when I picked up the receiver.
The voice on the phone sounded weak and frail. He told me his name and then commented that he had occasionally attended a church I pastored many years ago.
The present pastor of the church apparently would not visit someone who was not a member of the church so he did not have a minister to call on.
He said what many people do when starting to tell their story, “I don’t know where to begin.” Then he went on, “Basically I’m dying. The chemo didn’t work. The cancer has spread everywhere. I’m kinda left to die and it’s hard to do. Can you come and say a prayer over me?”
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