I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. (2 Tim 4: 7)

I went to church last Sunday and it turned out to be the funeral service of a church leader - a fine, godly man who had lived to a ripe old age. Accolades were heaped upon him. They spoke of his dependence upon God, his humility and his graciousness. These qualities, nevertheless, were tempered with firmness when the occasion demanded it – truly, the marks of a great leader.

Although I didn’t know the man personally, I’ve had the privilege of bumping into him and his lovely wife along the church passageway one day and had requested their prayer. I was depressed about my circumstances then. The wife prayed for me. I don’t remember what she prayed (the memory is short, these days) but the brief encounter left me with a warm impression of a gentle couple who exuded quiet graciousness and that kind of quality doesn’t come cheap. It is acquired through spending time with God.

My voice choked as the old familiar hymns were sung. I sobbed quietly as I watched one of his sons share of a father who prayed with them and for them through their growing years and until death took him away. What a loving father! A picture of a grieving, aching family flashed across the church screen. How much they must have loved him and how they will miss him! May the gentle reminder that he has gone to a better place comfort them.

I cried when I thought of how much he had achieved in his life time and how abundantly the Lord had blessed him. I cried for here was a visible example of a person who had fought the good fight and who had finished the race. (2 Tim 4:7). I cried for unlike him, I have nothing to show the Lord if He were to take me home.

My spirit was troubled. But by the following morning, my mind was cleared. I would live each day of my life with spiritual urgency, putting the things of God above mine. Then, perhaps, when I breathe my last, I can claim 2 Tim 4:7.