Eve is a young lady I recently met. This was one of those times when you wish you could say that it had been under different circumstances. But it was not.
It was not at a funeral, as many times that is when this expression is used.
It was not at the hospital, although it could well have been, and maybe should have been.
In reality, both of those locations would play a role sooner than we imagined.
Eve lay on a small bed in the front room of her brother's house. She is thin...frail actually.
She does not get up when we enter. She does extend her hand from under the covers. We shake hands in a polite greeting.
I squat down next to the bed because I do not want to tower over here while we talk.
There exists in this room and in these moments, a solemn seriousness about meeting Eve.
She is dying.
Eve has AIDS.
There is no talk about how did she contract AIDS or lectures on morality, I never even asked. I did not ask her or the friend who was concerned enough to take me to see her. At this point, it does not matter. Facts are facts...and AIDS kills. Thus, Eve is dying.
She knows it. Her friends knew it. I was just now learning it.
We all talked. No chit chat this day - just straight to the point.
"Eve, do you know the health of your soul?" "Do you know where you will go after this?"
Her eyes pleaded with me, longing to be sure.
I explained the choices. Yes, she had sinned, we all have sinned. And she, like we, all have a choice to make. Would she give her heart and her remaining life to Jesus...or harden herself, embittered against the way her life has turned out?
There is no bitterness. Eve is listening. She is longing for something, some hope. The day before, there was prayer for healing by one of the friends who is with me this day.
This day... well, this day has a different focus. We all want to know for sure that Eve is prepared for eternity. Each of the three of us share from our hearts, urging her to commit to Christ. I share with Eve that the Lord is near. In fact, the Bible says that Jesus is very near, in our hearts, in our mouths, if...
...if she will just believe in her heart that Jesus is Lord and that God raised Jesus from the dead, then she will be saved. Her soul will spend eternity with Jesus.
"Eve, is that your heart's desire?" I ask. She agrees. We pray.
A holy moment in the midst of life's most serious trial.
When we leave, there is quiet rejoicing. Another soul has been secured. There is a bit more peace in the hearts of these friends this night...and in Eve's heart as well.
Fast forward one week. It was Sunday afternoon when we visited. Instead of relaxing or even seeking a Nazarene nap we had gone to see Eve. Now it is Sunday night, the week following. Eve's family is searching for her friends to come back and visit as she is longing to see them again, to have prayer again. But, it is not to be. Phones are not available and the people cannot be located. This is to be Eve's last night on earth.
We receive the news later in the week. She was officially pronounced on Monday and buried Tuesday. There are moments of reflection now. Quiet, internal reflection. Glad to have gone to see Eve. Glad to have listened to the Spirit's nudge. Glad to have prayed with her. In some ways, glad that her suffering here has ended.
Every story does not end this way. Every person does not end this way. Every one of us may not have such an imminent opportunity...
May I encourage you today to listen for those little nudges from the Spirit? Perhaps you may have an appointment with someone on the eve of eternity.
Blessed,
Ray & Becki
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