Life's Challenges - Stories - Death/Dying

The Old Fisherman

Our house was directly across the street from the clinic entrance of John Hopkins Hospital in Baltimore. We lived downstairs and rented the upstairs rooms to out patients at the clinic.

One summer evening as I was fixing supper, there was a knock at the door. I opened it to see a truly awful looking man. "Why, he's hardly taller than my eight-year-old," I thought as I stared at the stooped, shriveled body. But the appalling thing was his face-lopsided from swelling, red and raw. Yet his voice was pleasant as he said, "Good evening. I've come to see if you've a room for just one night. I came for a treatment this morning from the Eastern Shore, and there's no bus till morning." He told me he'd been hunting for a room since noon but with no success, no one seemed to have a room. "I guess it's my face...I know it looks terrible, but my doctor says with a few more treatments . . ."

For a moment I hesitated, but his next words convinced me: "I could sleep in this rocking chair on the porch. My bus leaves early in the morning." I told him we would find him a bed, but to rest on the porch. I went inside and finished getting supper. When we were ready, I asked the old man if he would join us. "No thank you. I have plenty." And he held up a brown paper bag.

When I had finished the dishes, I went out on the porch to talk with him a few minutes. It didn't take long time to see that this old man had an oversized heart crowded into that tiny body. He told me he fished for a living to support his daughter, her five children, and her husband, who was hopelessly crippled from a back injury. He didn't tell it by way of complaint; in fact, every other sentence was preface with a thanks to God for a blessing.

He was grateful that no pain accompanied his disease, which was apparently a form of skin cancer. He thanked God for giving him the strength to keep going. At bedtime, we put a camp cot in the children's room for him. When I got up in the morning, the bed linens were neatly folded and the little man was out on the porch. He refused breakfast, but just before he left for his bus, haltingly, as if asking a great favor, he said, "Could I please come back and stay the next time I have a treatment? I won't put you out a bit. I can sleep fine in a chair." He paused a moment and then added, "Your children made me feel at home. Grownups are bothered by my face, but children don't seem to mind."

I told him he was welcome to come again. And on his next trip he arrived a little after seven in the morning. As a gift, he brought a big fish and a quart of the largest oysters I had ever seen. He said he had shucked them that morning before he left so that they'd be nice and fresh I knew his bus left at 4:00 a.m. and I wondered what time he had to get up in order to do this for us.

In the years he came to stay overnight with us there was never a time that he did not bring us fish or oysters or vegetables from his garden. Other times we received packages in the mail, always by special delivery; fish and oysters packed in a box of fresh young spinach or kale, every leaf carefully washed. Knowing that he must walk three miles to mail these, and knowing how little money he had made the gifts doubly precious. When I received these little remembrances, I often thought of a comment our next-door neighbor made after he left that first morning. "Did you keep that awful looking man last night?

I turned him away! You can lose roomers by putting up such people!" Maybe we did lose roomers once or twice. But oh! If only they could have known him, perhaps their illnesses would have been easier to bear. I know our family always will be grateful to have known him; from him we learned what it was to accept the bad without complaint and the good with gratitude to God.

Recently I was visiting a friend who has a greenhouse, As she showed me her flowers, we came to the most beautiful one of all, a golden chrysanthemum, bursting with blooms. But to my great surprise, it was growing in an old dented, rusty bucket. I thought to myself, "If this were my plant, I'd put it in the loveliest container I had!" My friend changed my mind. "I ran short of pots," she explained, "and knowing how beautiful this one would be, I thought it wouldn't mind starting out in this old pail. It's just for a little while, till I can put it out in the garden." She must have wondered why I laughed so delightedly, but I was imagining just such a scene in heaven. "Here's an especially beautiful one," God might have said when he came to the soul of the sweet old fisherman. "He won't mind starting in this small body."

All this happened long ago-and now, in God's garden, how tall this lovely soul must stand.

Author Unknown

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Dr. William's Is Upstairs

A doctor who had devoted his life to helping the underprivileged lived over a liquor store in the poor section of a large city. In front of the liquor store was a simple sign reading "Dr. Williams is upstairs."

When he died, he had no relatives and he left no money for his burial. He had never asked for payment from anyone he had ever treated. Friends and patients scraped enough money together to bury the good doctor, but they had no money for a tombstone. It appeared that his grave was going to be unmarked until someone came up with a wonderful suggestion.

They took the sign from in front of the liquor store and nailed it to a post over his grave. It made a lovely epitaph: Dr. Williams is upstairs.

Author Unknown

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The Verdict

After living a "decent" life my time on earth came to an end. The first thing I remember is sitting on a bench in the waiting room of what I thought to be a courthouse. The doors opened and I was instructed to come in and have a seat by the defense table. As I looked around I saw the "prosecutor." He was a villainous looking gent who snarled as he stared at me, he definitely was the most evil person I have ever seen.

I sat down and looked to my left and there sat my lawyer, a kind and gentle looking man whose appearance seemed very familiar to me. The corner door flew open and there appeared the judge in full flowing robes. He commanded an awesome presence as he moved across the room and I couldn't take my eyes off of him. As he took his seat behind the bench he said, "Let us begin."

The Prosecutor rose and said "My name is Satan and I am here to show you why this man belongs in hell." He proceeded to tell of lies that I told, things that I stole and in the past when I cheated others. Satan told of other horrible perversions that were once in my life and the more he spoke the further down in my seat I sank. I was so embarrassed that I couldn't look at anyone, even my own lawyer, as the Devil told of sins that even I had completely forgotten about. As upset as I was at Satan for telling all these things about me, I was equally upset at my representative who sat there silently not offering any form of defense at all. I know I had been guilty of those things, but I had done some good in my life-couldn't that at least equal out part of the harm I've done. Satan finished with a fury and said "This man belongs in hell, he is guilty of all that I have charged and there is not a person who can prove otherwise.

Justice will finally be served this day." When it was his turn, my lawyer first asked if he might approach the bench. The judge allowed this over the strong objection of Satan, and beckoned him to come forward. As he got up and started walking I was able to see him now in his full splendor and majesty. Now I realized why he seemed so familiar, this was Jesus representing me, my Lord and my Savior. He stopped at the bench and softly said to the judge "Hi Dad" and then He turned to address the court.

"Satan was correct in saying that this man had sinned, I won't deny any of these allegations. And yes the wages of sins is death and this man deserves to be punished". Jesus took a deep breath and turned to His Father with out-stretched arms and proclaimed "However, I died on the cross so that this person might have eternal life and he has accepted Me as his Savior, so He is mine." My Lord continued with "His name is written in the book of life and no one can snatch him from Me. Satan still does not understand yet, this man is not to be given justice but rather mercy." As Jesus sat down, He quietly paused, looked at his Father and replied "There is nothing else that needs to be done, I've done it all".

The Judge lifted His mighty hand and slammed the gavel down and the following words bellowed from His lips- "This man is free-the penalty for him has already been paid in full, case dismissed." As my Lord led me away I could hear Satan ranting and raving "I won't give up, I'll win the next one."

I asked Jesus as He gave me my instructions where to go next "Have you ever lost a case?" Christ lovingly smiled and said "Everyone that has come to me and asked Me to represent them has received the same verdict as you, "Paid in Full."

Author Unknown

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Beyond Death

A sick man turned to his doctor, as he was leaving the room after paying a visit, and said, "Doctor, I am afraid to die. Tell me what lies on the other side."

Very quietly the doctor said, "I don't know."

"You don't know? You, a Christian man, do not know what is on the other side?"

The doctor was holding the handle of the door, on the other side of which came a sound of scratching and whining, and as he opened the door a dog sprang into the room and leaped on him with an eager show of gladness.

Turning to the patient, the doctor said, "Did you notice that dog? He had never been in this room before. He did not know what was inside. He knew nothing except that his master was here, and when the door opened he sprang in without fear.

I know little of what is on the other side of death, but I do know one
thing: I know my Master is there, and that is enough. And when the door opens, I shall pass through with no fear, but with gladness.

Author Unknown

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God Is Good

There was an old man at our church who had loved God all of his life. This man John, walked around saying "God is Good". He said it all the time, whenever and wherever he was. When John got married he said, "God is Good".

When John lost his job he said, "God is Good". When John's father died he said, "God is Good". When Johns wallet got stolen he said, "God is Good".

Well, you get the idea, no matter what John did, or what happened to him, we would always hear him say, "God is Good".

A few months ago, John was diagnosed with cancer. The disease had spread rapidly and he was told by his doctor he'd have only a few weeks to live.  Still, even on his death bed, John could be heard by everyone in the hospital repeating his famous line, "God is Good".

Our pastor Charles was Johns best friend. Charles went everyday to visit John in the hospital. And every night before Charles left John would tell him, "God is Good".

Finally after weeks of watching his best friend get worse and worse from his terminal disease, Charles just could not stand it any longer and asked John, " John you are my best friend and I love you. I love the Lord as much as you do, too. I have listened to you say that God is Good your whole life.  Through the good times, maybe I can understand you saying how good God is.  Maybe even through the hard times, to help yourself cope. But now, laying here on your death bed, how can you be so optimistic? How can you say 'God is good' every day when you know he is letting you die?"

John just looked at Charles and smiled.

"Dear friend, don't you see all of those times I was saying God was Good, it was my way of praising him in the little way I could. And look what my reward is for remaining faithful, I am dieing. You say God is letting me die as if that is a bad thing. Charles, have you forgotten that is our goal. To live our life for Him, and join him one day in heaven. See, GOD IS GOOD! He has finally called me home and in a few hours I will be with Him. I can't imagine anything greater than that."

John died that night in his sleep. Charles stood up and said only two things at John's funeral: "I will miss my friend but I know I will see him again one day soon, and GOD IS GOOD."

Let us praise the Lord in everything that comes our way for our reward will be great in Heaven...

Author unknown

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A Letter From Home

I had a safe trip. The angels carried me safely into Father Abraham's bosom. Oh, the thrill I felt when I met the one that died for me!

And no matter what you've heard, there's just no words to describe the glories that surround him. I'm satisfied here; every need's been supplied. Just wait till you see my new home.

I'm satisfied because there's no sin here, no murders, no divorce, no abortions, and no need to ever have locks on the doors. Perfect peace reigns here. I'm satisfied because there's no sickness. Why, I've never felt better in my life! I have a brand new body just like Jesus.

And oh, I wish you could hear the singing. David played his harp today, and a great crowd gathered by the river of life and sang a new song. Of course, the angels couldn't sing that song, but they sure were listening. It's really wonderful here, because there are no strangers. Everyone knows me by name.

Why, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego showed me around. Seems like I've been here forever. The weather is great. There's a cool breeze blowing all the time. And you know one of the nicest things, night and darkness never comes. It's light here all the time, for Jesus himself is the light of the city.

Please, remember, I'm safe, I'm satisfied, and I'm not sick anymore. There will be no need for me to write again, because I was told today that nothing here ever changes. In closing, the only thing that would make this wonderful place more complete is for all my family and friends to join me here in Heaven.

Author Unknown

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The Parable of the Twins

Once upon a time, twin boys were conceived. Weeks passed and the twins developed. As their awareness grew, they laughed for joy: "Isn't it great that we were conceived? Isn't it great to be alive?"

Together the twins explored their world. When they found their mother's cord that gave them life, they sang for joy! "How great is our mother's love, that she shares her own life with us!"

As weeks stretched into months, the twins noticed how much each was changing. "What does it mean?" asked one.

"It means our stay in this world is drawing to an end." said the other.

"But I don't want to go," said one. "I want to stay here always."

"We have no choice," said the other. "But maybe there is life after birth."

"But how can there be?" responded one. "we will shed our life cord and how is life possible without it? Besides, we have seen evidence that others were here before us, and none of them has returned to tell us there is life after birth. No, this is the end. Maybe there is no mother at all."

"But there has to be," protested the other. "How else did we get here? How do we remain alive?"

"Have you ever seen our mother?" said one. "Maybe she only lives in our minds. Maybe we made her up because the idea made us feel good."

So, the last days in the womb were filled with deep questioning and fear. Finally, the moment of birth arrived.

When the twins had passed from their world, they opened their eyes and cried for joy - for what they saw exceeded their fondest dreams. That is death as experienced by Christians.

Author Unknown

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Life Support

We either have been, or will be, put in the position of comforting someone who is in grief. That is an important
role played by good friends. The most common question I hear on such occasions is, "What should I say?" We
want to help, but we feel helpless to make a difference in the face of such tragedy. I have often remembered a
story told by Joseph Baylys when I struggle to say the "right thing" to someone who is hurting.

Mr. Baylys lost three children to death over the course of several years. He wrote a book called, *The View From
A Hearse*, in which he talks about his grief He says this about comforting those who grieve:

"I was sitting, torn by grief. Someone came and talked to me of God's dealings, of why it happened, of hope beyond
the grave. He said things I knew were true. I was unmoved, except to wish he would go away. He finally did. Someone
else came and sat beside me. He didn't talk. He didn't ask leading questions. He just sat with me for an hour or more,
listened when I said something, answered briefly, prayed simply, left. I was moved. I was comforted. I hated to see
him go."

I have found Joseph Baylys experience to be excruciatingly typical. Both men wanted to help. Both men cared. But only
one truly comforted. The difference was this:

One tried to make him feel better. The other just let him feel. One tried to say the right things. The other listened. One told
him it would be all right. The other shared his pain.

When put in the difficult position of comforting someone in emotional pain, sometimes what needs to be said can be
said best with a soft touch or a listening ear. It may not seem like much, but it can be more than you will ever know.

Author Unknown

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The Dark Candle

A man had a little daughter -- an only and much-beloved child. He lived for her -- she was his life. So when she became ill and her illness resisted the efforts of them best obtainable physicians, he became like a man possessed, moving heaven and earth to bring about her restoration to health. His best efforts proved unavailing and the child died.

The father was totally irreconcilable. He became a bitter recluse, shutting himself away from his many friends and refusing every activity that might restore his poise and bring him back to his normal self. But one night he had a dream. He was in Heaven, and was witnessing a grand pageant of all the little child angels. They were marching in an apparently endless line past the Great White Throne.

Every white-robed angelic child carried a candle. He noticed that one child's candle was not lighted. Then he saw that the child with the dark candle was his own little girl. Rushing to her, while the pageant faltered, he seized her in his arms, caressed her tenderly, and then asked: "How is it, darling that your candle alone is unlighted? "Father, they often re-light it, but your tears always put it out." Just then he awoke from his dream.

The lesson was crystal clear, and its effects were immediate. From that hour on he was not a recluse, but mingled freely and cheerfully with his former friends and associates. No longer would his darling's candle be extinguished by his useless tears.

"For You have delivered my soul from death. Have you not kept my feet from falling, That I may walk before God In the LIGHT of the living?" (Psalms 56:13NKJ) Jesus Loves You!

Author Unknown

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Permanent Address

A young woman completing a job application came to the line asking for her "Permanent address." She began to list her street and house
number but paused for a moment. Then, with a small smile she wrote, "HEAVEN."

She understood that Heaven is a real place... and the ultimate home of God's children.

No place on earth is truly home for those who belong to God's family.  The Bible says that we are travelers... just passing through. Heaven
is the ultimate, eternal destination for those who love God. In fact, their time on earth is like one small dot on a continuous,
never-ending line.

Is God the landlord of your permanent home? If not, then the time is Right to start investing in the future. Ask God to wash you clean and
forgive your trespasses and sins so that you will be suitably clothed for Heaven's splendor. Ask Him to make you His child through the sacrifice
of His Son. Ask Him to reserve a place for you, so that you can be with Him forever.

Heaven is the best home of all because God lives there. It is filled with hope and joy and peace and love, and it's forever. Start planning
for your future today!

Author Unknown

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The Empty Chair

A man's daughter had asked the local pastor to come and pray with her father. When the pastor arrived, he found the man lying in bed with his head propped up on two pillows and an empty chair beside his bed. The priest assumed that the old fellow had been informed of his visit. "I guess you were expecting me," he said.

"No, who are you?"

"I'm the new associate at your local church," the pastor replied. "When I saw the empty chair, I figured you knew I was going to show up."

"Oh yeah, the chair," said the bedridden man. "Would you mind closing the door?"

Puzzled, the pastor shut the door.

"I've never told anyone this, not even my daughter," said the man. "But all of my life I have never known how to pray. At church I used to hear the pastor talk about prayer, but it always went right over my head.."

"I abandoned any attempt at prayer," the old man continued, "until one day about four years ago my best friend said to me, 'Joe, prayer is just a simple matter of having a conversation with Jesus. Here's what I suggest. Sit down on a chair, place an empty chair in front of you, and in faith see Jesus on the chair. It's not spooky because he promised, 'I'll be with you always.' Then just speak to him and listen in the same way you're doing with me right now."

"So, I tried it and I've liked it so much that I do it a couple of hours every day. I'm careful, though. If my daughter saw me talking to an empty chair, she'd either have a nervous breakdown or send me off to the funny farm."

The pastor was deeply moved by the story and encouraged the old guy to continue on the journey. Then he prayed with him, and returned to the church.

Two nights later the daughter called to tell the pastor that her daddy had died that afternoon.

"Did he seem to die in peace?" he asked.

"Yes, when I left the house around two o'clock, he called me over to his bedside, told me one of his corny jokes, and kissed me on the cheek. When I got back from the store an hour later, I found him dead. But there was something strange, In fact, beyond strange--kinda weird. Apparently, just before Daddy died, he leaned over and rested his head on a chair beside the bed."

Author Unknown

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The Sting

This is little story told at a funeral recently. It has a play on words about a "sting" which is vivid in its application: Once a boy and his father were driving along the road in the family car, when a bee flew in the window. The boy got very upset when he saw the bee buzzing around his head, and he began throwing his arms around madly, almost causing an accident. Maybe you think he was a coward, but that boy was a special case. You see he was allergic to bee stings! The doctors had told him that if he ever got stung by a bee again he would die of the sting! So naturally enough the boy was very frightened of the bee. The father tried to brush it out of the car window, but couldn't make it go out. So he quickly grabbed the bee! But it escaped, and buzzed around the boy's head again making him scream with terror this time.

Well, the bee was still in the car, but the father pulled over to the edge of the road and said to the boy, "It is OK, you are all right." Then he opened his hand, and there sticking into his palm the boy could see the bee sting! His father had allowed the bee to sting himself! He had taken the sting out of the danger. There was no danger about the bee any more.

The pastor told that story to show us all that Jesus Christ has taken the "sting" out of death itself. He let death "sting" Him instead of ourselves, so we could live forever and never die. How wonderful. The Bible tells us about that "sting" being taken out of death by Jesus Christ: "O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory? The sting of death is sin; and the strength of sin is the law. But thanks be to God, which giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ." (I Corinthians 15:55-57)

The sting of death is sin - and the strength of sin is the law. Sin makes us unable to face a Holy God after we die. We cannot keep God's Law. But Jesus Christ has fixed that for us, He has given believers the "victory" or made us winners over death. Praise God, we will never really die when we trust in Jesus as our Lord.

Author Unknown

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