Her friends are left to wonder: Does she still exist out there, somwhere? If so, where? Is she perhaps living in eternal glory, or eternal punishment?
I had not seen this friend for quite some time. She had no interest in seeing me, truth be told. Guess it was because I tried, timidly and stumblingly, to tell her about the happily-ever-after joy that is freely available to anyone who repents of his sin, and trusts in Jesus to have paid for that sin on the cross. And tried to tell her how I know that these things are true, absolutely and eternally.
Unfortunately, she was not happy to hear what I had to say. She was in fact furious. Her face was red and her language blue as she stormed out of the restaurant where we’d met for lunch, leaving me with the bill and that sick feeling that I’d said it all wrong, that if only I’d approached it this way or that, we’d still be sitting there, having a wonderful conversation about the afterlife that the Lord has promised.
Now she knows the truth, one way or the other.
It’s possible that she received Christ before she died. Maybe a genuine believer sat down with her at the hospice—a nurse or a chaplain or the neighbor in the next room. And maybe she was finally frightened enough to listen, to grasp at mankind’s only hope, to heed the call of the “forever” that God has written on our hearts, according to Ecclesiastes 3:11.
But I am left to wonder once again why so many of us are so stubborn about considering eternity while there is still time—and to do so before we become so bitter about life’s hardships that we can't see beyond our personal pain and disappointments.
Why do we spend countless hours planning our earthly endeavors, from vacations to careers, families to retirements, and yet refuse to investigate the great questions of eternity? How can we be so blind to what really matters?
I know that some of us have come to our own conclusions on this subject by thinking long and hard, or believing what someone we admire has said about it, or simply deciding that no one can possibly know what comes next, so all we can do is hope for the best.
There is a source of authority that is demonstrably true, a volume containing detailed scientific and prophetic information that its authors could not have even imagined apart from supernatural intervention. It’s a divinely inspired work delivering a single cohesive message—this in spite of the fact that it was written over the course of 2000 years by ~40 different authors from all walks of life, from glorious kings to lowly shepherds.
That source of authority is, of course, the Bible.
Why do so many of us refuse to at least investigate its reliability, its promises, and its warnings, when it’s eternity that’s at stake?
Why do we let ourselves get so wrapped up in the things of the next 10 or 25 or 50 years that we have no time left to plan our forevers?
Please—if you have yet to receive Jesus Christ, don’t wait another day. Repent and trust in Him now, before it’s too late.