Tuesday, 14 November, I got a call from a hospice in J’boro, asking me to contact a dying man that lives near me. I contacted the hospice to get the necessary information, and then contacted the dying man to make an appointment to go see him. I’ll call the man “Charles.”
Charles is dying of cirrhosis of the liver, liver cancer, and hepatitis. Charles was released from prison to go home to die. He was in prison for drug convictions. One of his sisters is staying with him to make sure he takes his medicines and to take care of him until he dies. Charles has a morphine patch on his chest for the pain he suffers. He takes a cocktail of other medications too. The medicines and hepatitis makes him sick to his stomach all the time. Everything in his apartment is rented. He has no money. He has nothing to pay for his final expenses, no funeral, no insurance, nothing.
Charles has loads of tattoos on his back and his stomach. Some are the typical eagles, flags, and naked women. But there were two that struck me. One goes around the front of his neck, over the collar bones; and the second arches over his abdominal muscles. The first one says “ONLY GOD CAN JUDGE ME;” the second says “ONLY GOD KNOWS.” His hepatitis is from dirty needles when he got his tattoos.
When I came in to see him, I asked Charles how I could help him. Charles moaned out, “I’m dyin',” with a crack in his voice. The TV was blaring with a western movie playing (starring a young William Shatner). I asked him why he had asked the hospice people to contact a preacher, a chaplain. “I’m scared,” he croaked. “You’re scared of dying?” “Yeah,” he moaned.
I said that we are all going to die; he just has a better idea of when, but that I could beat him to it. I could be driving home, and a bob-truck or an 18-wheeler could run me over and kill me on the spot. “Really,” I said, “this is a mercy from God for you to know that you are dying soon.”
I asked him if he knew any of the Bible stories; “I can’t read.” I said that I was not asking him to read anything, in fact I would show him some pictures; and I used the Evangecube (www.evangecube.com), which I had in my pocket. So I showed him the eCube and then I explained to him that this means him.
I asked him how he came to be so sick, He said that he had cirrhosis from the alcohol and drugs, and hepatitis from needles for the tattoos. I asked him “What was your drug of choice?” “Meth.” “But,” I said, “You still have all your teeth. Meth eats out your teeth.” “Dentures,” he said. “Was it worth it Charles, the rebellion, the alcohol and dope?” “No, sir, it sure wasn’t.”
Then I told him the story of the thief on the cross, from Luke 23.
Luke 23:39-43 (NASB) And one of the criminals who were hanged there was hurling abuse at Him, saying, "Are You not the Christ? Save Yourself and us!" 40 But the other answered, and rebuking him said, "Do you not even fear God, since you are under the same sentence of condemnation? 41 "And we indeed justly, for we are receiving what we deserve for our deeds; but this man has done nothing wrong." 42 And he was saying, "Jesus, remember me when You come in Your kingdom!" 43 And He said to him, "Truly I say to you, today you shall be with Me in Paradise."
I asked Charles if he could see himself in that story. “Yeah.” “Where?” “The second thief.” “Does that help you, Charles?” “Yeah. I’m goin’ to bed now.” I prayed with him, and he went to bed.
I talked to his sister for about five or six minutes more after he was in bed. She cried softly as we talked, and said that this was so hard. Her other sister would not come and help, even though she lives in the same town, and Charles’ son could not get out of prison to help either. I told her that she was doing something really good, and that if she thought she is not doing any good, that she was wrong. “Really, Preacher?” I told her the parable in Matthew 25:38-40: 'And when did we see You a stranger, and invite You in, or naked, and clothe You? 39 'And when did we see You sick, or in prison, and come to You?' 40 "And the King will answer and say to them, 'Truly I say to you, to the extent that you did it to one of these brothers of Mine, even the least of them, you did it to Me.'
I told Charles’ sister that she was doing what Jesus said, and doing these things for her brother is like ministering to Jesus Himself. She thanked me, and I promised to come back to see Charles on Sunday afternoon. He could be dead before then.
I know that people will wonder about whether or not this man is "saved." He lived such a bad life; his entire, short, 43 years. I think I will say that as little as we can know one another's hearts, Charles gives the appearance of genuine repentance. Charles is sorry for his life, for his mistakes. He has as much faith as the thief on the cross had, he has as much chance for restitution and good works as the thief had.
For my part, I rely on Jude 1:22-23 "And have mercy on some, who are doubting; 23 save others, snatching them out of the fire; and on some have mercy with fear, hating even the garment polluted by the flesh."
Post Script
Charles died at 7:10 AM, November 21, 2006
Labels: Dying bad
