Departing Friends

Life is short and full of the unexpected. One never knows if the last time you see someone will be the last time you see them in this world. I'm at the age, friends, and stage in life, where most of my friends have departed by death and are already in heaven.

A couple of years ago, I was having dinner with Norman Geisler, and he was telling me about the latest book he was writing. And he got me to laughing by telling me he was mad at Adrian Rogers. I said, why on earth are you mad at Adrian Rogers? And Norman Geisler said, because he didn't leave me his voice.

And although I knew at the time Dr. Geisler was in frail health, I didn't know that four months later he'd be dead. Sometimes people leave us way too soon when we least expect it. But there are other times, because of health reasons or specific circumstances, when we know we will never see a friend or loved one again.

And it's in the saying goodbye that matters. We get a sense of this from the book of Acts and chapter 20, where the apostle Paul is on his last voyage to Rome. And along the way, he stops to meet with the Ephesian elders for the last time.

It's a heart warming passage. We see the tender scene in verses 35 through 38, which reads, I have showed you all things, how that so laboring he ought to support the weak, and to remember the words of the Lord Jesus, how he said, it is more blessed to give than to receive. And when he had thus spoken, he kneeled down and prayed with them all, and they all wept sore, and fell on Paul's neck and kissed him, sorrowing most of all for the words which he spake, that they should see his face no more, and they accommodate him onto the ship.

I will stop there. Times of departing are heartfelt times, especially when it is the last time. I remember the last time I saw Adrian Rogers, I was in a room with him, with Henry Blackaby and Ted Randall, and it came time to say goodbye.

And Dr. Rogers was so fatigued from his chemotherapy, he could barely walk across the room, and he came over to me, and he threw his arms around me, and he pulled me tightly to him, and he held me a long time, and he didn't let me go until it became almost embarrassing. It was his way of saying goodbye to me, because he knew it was the last time we'd meet, for in just a couple of months I was looking at him in his coffin. Departing friends leave memories that won't easily depart from us.

How we depart is in the how of our goodbyes.