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Death, that Long Black Train

“Against this arrest there is no bail.”

George Swinnock 

The following devotional is written by Jay Higgins and reprinted here with his permission. I have been holding this for several weeks now, waiting for the right time to send it on to our church family. Yesterday (January 20th) we buried my dad. The Lord has been gracious throughout. The service was well attended. The gospel was proclaimed. And our son even presented a new song of his, “The New Jerusalem” at the very end of the service. Thank you to everyone who has been praying for the Smith family and praying for others in our church family who have recently lost loved ones. There are several. And thank you to Jay for honoring Christ through his writing. Have a blessed week and we might see many of you on Sunday. (We are watching the weather forecast.)

Love in Christ,

Pastor Dale

Well, here we are. The inevitability of this moment has weighed heavy on me for some time now. Death, that old black train, that long black train, had dropped down the mountain some time ago, could be seen on the horizon, at the end of the valley. Its tall plume of smoke as grim as the reaper, the antithesis to God’s pillar of fire. An inverted, “I will lead you.” Instead, “I’m coming for you.” 

A lifetime of chasing relational perfection, of asking questions like, “What should it look like?” and wondering why things are the way they are has only revealed the utter brokenness of the world, and myself. If I had one hundred more years to spend with you it wouldn’t be enough. To truly love someone is to never reach a point of satisfaction. “That’s enough. Let us part ways.” And our time was so limited. Limited for years by struggles and misunderstandings. Limited by immaturities. Always limited by our own sinfulness. Limited by time and responsibilities.

I love you. And I thank God for you. I see and relate to your own struggles so much more now. I’m sorry for taking many things for granted. I wish I had honored you better. You were always there for me. In ways I didn’t even understand. I have a wife, kids, a church, yet I feel completely alone now. I know the intensity of that feeling will eventually fade. I pray I will use it to earnestly pursue being the rock and presence to my children, that you were to me. 

I don’t have much time. Looks like that old black train is headed down the mountain now. I’ll catch it soon and I’ll see you then dad.

Jay Higgins