A dear brother, 86 years of age, recently went home to be with the Lord. Never married, he felt the small two-room cabin he lived in for much of his life was enough for him. It was more than His Lord had.
He was a true evangelist, often found giving out tracts or preaching the gospel. He once said, “I don’t ask people if they are a Christian or believe in God; rather, ‘Do you know the way to heaven?’ ” Whether they answered “yes” or “no,” he could give them the gospel. Like a good fisherman, he was prepared. His automobile had room for the driver only, due to boxes of gospel literature which filled its empty seats. He was often seen walking the streets of town or waiting outside public events to give out the gospel.
The time came when our brother finally agreed to enter a nursing home. Not long before, he had gone down to the creek below his little cabin to get water. On his way back up the hill he slipped on the icy grass and fell. He could not move his legs, and so he just laid there and “talked with Jesus . . . and rested.”
Upon admission to the nursing home, a state representative told him he could not preach in his new residence. He promptly informed her he could not go there then. She later relented, and he continued to do as he had always done—preach the gospel to all who would listen.
R. DeWitt (adapted)