Reach For Jesus While You Can
Our lives are a fragrance presented by Christ to God. But this fragrance is perceived differently by those being saved and by those perishing. To those who are perishing we are a fearful smell of death and doom. But to those who are being saved we are a life-giving perfume. -- 2 Corinthians 2:15-26a (NLT)
It was a sudden death brought on by years of ignoring the symptoms. A heart attack. No one was surprised but it didn’t stop the sadness or the breaking hearts of those left behind.
The greatest heartbreak is that, unless something happened recently between he and God, he wasn’t a Christian. He refused to let a Savior into his hardened heart. He wouldn’t even entertain the possibility of his need.
So many of us tried to talk with him. Over years we tried. We kept thinking that a moment would come, words would flow, and light would finally open his blind eyes. But he couldn’t see past his pain and grief and anger.
He’d never been a Christian. His wife had been. But she’d died a slow, painful death from an illness that robbed her of her ability to function at all. Many times he would tell others that there was no point in being a Christian because it hadn’t done his wife any good. He couldn’t understand the promise of eternity. He couldn’t see the hope of tomorrow.
He admitted that his wife’s greatest desire was that he give his life to Christ. He just couldn’t do it. We talked about it but he wouldn’t budge. Instead, he grew more unhappy as the years went by.
Those who only knew him in bits and pieces probably thought he was getting on with his life. He got a girlfriend. He left his job. He was who he was. But he would talk about his wife and his eyes would grow distant. She kept him in line, focused, calm.
Without her, he was rudderless. She hadn’t meant to leave him behind but none of us can count our days before we’re gone. It’s what happens when we rely on other people -- even those who love us -- to be what only God can be. Always there. Dependable. Loving. Perfect. Strong.
He bragged about going home from work, cooking and eating a big dinner, then sitting on his front porch and drinking beer. One beer after another, all the while smoking an endless stream of cigarettes.
No one was surprised that he suffered a fatal heart attack. We remembered the good man, the laughter, the intense love he had for his son. And we mourned that he was lost forever. God’s child who refused to admit he needed a Savior until it was too late to make a choice.
Have you given your life to Jesus? Are you resting secure in His love? We don’t always have a moment to cry out. Sometimes it’s just too late.
