Yesterday was my wife's birthday. I felt a little sick, but was determined to rough it so that we could spend the day together. After our morning prayer meeting I drove to Wal-Mart to buy presents. I called my wife to let her know what time I would be home, and for her to be ready because we were going out. I closed my cell phone. It immediately rings. It's my dad. He sounds shaken up. They had just taken my grandpa in the ambulance to the hospital. It seemed at first like he was dehydrated and once on IV's for a while he would be better. But, 24 hours later he is in eternity.
At this point we have no idea exactly what it was that he died from. Something with his intestines. Maybe his heart.
Tonight is youth group. I am excited to preach the gospel tonight. Yet, I am physically and emotionally exhausted. Grandpa was alive and seemed well at our family reunion Saturday. Now he's dead; a reminder of the grace of God in giving us 87 years and a reminder of the gravity of sin. I am not certain where my grandfather will spend eternity. I know I shared the gospel with him. I know that he seemed to understand. And I know that God is very merciful. But also know that sin is real and God is just. My grandfather...as with you, me, and anyone else...has only one hope--Jesus Christ. May He be glorified in this time.
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In 1832, after reading the life of Jonathan Edwards, Robert Murray McCheyne was deeply humbled. He related this experience in his diary: "How feeble my spark of Christianity appears beside such a sun! But even his was a borrowed light, and the same source is still open to enlighten me."