Tuesday, February 6, 2007

Steal Away to Jesus

He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning nor crying nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.
Revelation 21.4

As a budding blogger, I truly enjoy reading other people's blogs, and since coming to Aberdeen, I have faithfully read the intimate portrait that Libbie Groves, wife of Old Testament Professor Al Groves at Westminster Theological Seminary, has painted of her family's battle with Al's terminal cancer. Al was one of Trey's professors during his time at the seminary, and although I have never met them personally, I was very touched by the way Libbie and Al allowed everyone to share with them during this painful time. I have marvelled particularly at Libbies' grace, wisdom, and comfort throughout this trying ordeal. I have shed many tears reading her poignant words, trying to wrap my mind around what it must be like to say such a long "good-bye". Her entries were always filled with hope and peace and pointed every reader to Jesus.

This Monday Al passed into glory surrounded by his wife and 4 children, and as I read the account this morning I could taste the relief and joy that they all felt knowing that their dear father and husband was in the amazing presence of his beloved Savior, that he felt no more pain, and that before very long they would be with him again. What comfort! Her words are full of indescribable joy, a response to death that ought to inspire every Christian. Indeed, "Death is swallowed up in victory!" (I Corinthians 15.54) I'm including a link to her most recent entry entitled HOMECOMING!! -- praying that you too may find comfort in the times that try your soul.

I leave you with the words of a Negro spiritual I've been listening to lately on a new CD. They are so simple and yet so true.
Steal Away to Jesus

Steal away, steal away, steal away to Jesus!
Steal away, steal away home,
I ain’t got long to stay here.

My Lord, He calls me,
He calls me by the thunder;
The trumpet sounds within my soul,
I ain’t got long to stay here.

Green trees are bending,
Poor sinners stand a-trembling;
The trumpet sounds within my soul,
I ain’t got long to stay here.

My Lord, He calls me,
He calls me by the lightning;
The trumpet sounds within my soul,
I ain’t got long to stay here.

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