I have lived long enough to know that while the beginning of a thing is celebrated, the ending is what really matters. Old movies depicted as much. The characters waved goodbye and the credits rolled through. A final screen with the words “The End” appeared. Whatever the casts’ displayed; musical score or director’s intent, the time had come and the tape raced to separate from the spindle.
In a whisper both words and talents are forgotten. Only the sentimental voice cries at their loss. So many breathtaking moments vanish like dust in the wind. Preachers, singers, leaders, actors, songs…. Some were people serving with smiles; some with a heart of sincerity, but all come to an end.
The last song Glen Campbell sang was called, “I’m not gonna miss you.” Parkinson’s had nearly wiped his mind clear of the things he loved so much. His voice and guitar were unmatched in his day, though Roy Clark often commanded the moment. Few ever mastered the six-string like Roy. Once in a crowded room of country music legends, Glen Campbell played and sang. They all just sat in awe. The camera pointed towards Roy as he paid particular attention to the movements of Glen’s fingers gliding through the chords. It was said that Glen was the only one good enough to catch Roy’s attention. Both are now gone. They were musical geniuses bantering through a vapor.
Walter Guin was a tall, stand alone preacher/teacher/pastor/leader. He loved the lost and built churches. He taught a weekly Bible study with a massive chart that spanned the entire platform behind him. His insight was profound. His proficiency was grand in both conduct and aptitude. The merger of Apostolics took place at his church. It was 1945 when his voice brought a peaceful assurance that they were moving in the right direction, albeit unknown territory. We know it now as the United Pentecostal Church International with millions of constituents worldwide and thousands of churches and ministries. He saw it in its infancy when it was just a thought. Bro. Guin passed away many years ago. While his fingerprints are imprinted on our lives, his recognition is left to a few written words and some black and white photos.
Gene Kelly, Don Ameche, and Michelangelo Merisi da Caravaggio all lived and died. The End. One was called the original triple threat: dancer, singer, actor. His work-ethic propelled him beyond the scope of a thousand would-be actors.
Another was the debonair leading man with over 40 films to his credit. He pulled himself up out of poverty in America’s most difficult era. Dedication kept him in consideration long past his prime.
The last is yet cloaked in the plethora of artists hiding in Rome. The canvas never saw such dark shadows illuminating the light in contrast like the ones he painted. All of these men are faint whispers in the modern age.
Time moves so very fast. All of us have a limited window to do and be. Psa 90:10 The length of our days is seventy years– or eighty, if we have the strength; yet their span is but trouble and sorrow, for they quickly pass, and we fly away. The King James says, “if by reason of strength” meaning perchance some amount of health remains. Even still, the span is over. There is trouble in the time and sorrow in the passing. They are soon cut off… they quickly pass.
Solomon saw it so clearly:
Eccl 12:1 Remember your Creator in the days of your youth, before the days of trouble come and the years approach when you will say, “I find no pleasure in them”–
Eccl 12:2 before the sun and the light and the moon and the stars grow dark, and the clouds return after the rain;
Eccl 12:3 when the keepers of the house tremble, and the strong men stoop, when the grinders cease because they are few, and those looking through the windows grow dim;
Eccl 12:4 when the doors to the street are closed and the sound of grinding fades; when men rise up at the sound of birds, but all their songs grow faint;
Eccl 12:5 when men are afraid of heights and of dangers in the streets; when the almond tree blossoms and the grasshopper drags himself along and desire no longer is stirred. Then man goes to his eternal home and mourners go about the streets.
I’ll help you with it:
The keepers are the legs. The stoop is the aching back. The windows are the eyes. The grinding is the teeth. Doors represent the hearing. Fear is the lack of courage that comes with a weakened gate. And finally, desire for intimacy is no longer stirred. The message of Solomon is about taking advantage of the time allotted and not squandered our health and strength. It is about giving God our best time.
Upon seeing a picture of Patrick Swayze, I was stunned at his final days compared to his much younger self. He was only 57 years old when pancreatic cancer took him. I wondered if he could have seen but a few years in the future, would he have changed anything? All that swagger and confidence.
A million walk the same path. Their stride echoing of limitless strength. Yet it is appointed unto man once to die and Patrick’s appointment was set. So too is yours and mine. The End. Credits roll ever so briefly until the spool beats out aimlessly.
I remember the song Steve Richardson taught me. It said, “only what you do for Christ will last.” Steve’s hands once reached well beyond the octaves. Every note carving out a precise melody like the chiseling of a sculpture. But in the end, his fingers would not bend. Diabetes and arthritis could not touch his will, but they did take his reach. The sound was in his heart and mind. Even still, he left us a single line sang by millions, “Lead me Lord, I’ll follow, anywhere you open up the door.” Those words must permeate our lives. They must dictate our strength as we consider the window of opportunity before us.
Sister Clayborne raised dozens of foster children in the St. Louis area. She nurtured them long before the system was viable. Boys and girls became men and women of honor because of her love. She taught them how to read and how to work. She imprinted the Word in their hearts. At her passing, it was said that the number of children she raised; their spouses and children, and grandchildren, outnumbered all the other guests in attendance. Only Heaven can hold her coming reward. For now, she sleeps. Unheralded by a flagrant age. She did what she could do in her time and it ripples to this day.
The question has never been “If” we pass from this life. Time offers no favors. It has neither friend or foe. The question is not even “When?” The question is “‘What will we do with the time we have?” What will we do before our songs are lost in the shuffle of another playlist? When our strength seeps from our hands? When the sound of our individual voices fade into the archives of the age? What will we do with our strength?
David served his own generation and then fell asleep. As renown as he was, there was a conclusion to his appointment. I can only hope that we will serve the King and Kingdom among our generation. The time demands our praise, work, offerings, and sacrifice. In the end, nothing else will matter.
Finally, I am entering this year with an urgency. The pressing darkness looms and our talents must be given before the end. Job depicts an eternal truth:
Job 14:5 Seeing his days are determined, the number of his months are with thee, thou hast appointed his bounds that he cannot pass. God has given us a limited number of days. That number belongs to Him. There is a boundary around our time that we will not traverse. No amount of prayer or wishful thinking will add to it.
We must witness while we have the chance and lead while wisdom and understanding are in our mind. We must teach the Gospel and give while we have the offering in our hands. There is a window in which we can serve. So let us serve while the window is open. In the end, and there will be an end, perhaps something we do will be added to the Kingdom.
2024. The year of planting, gathering, working, and serving.
Pastor Jeffrey Harpole