WARNING: Biblical themes follow, but i suggest you read them anyway. Especially the first, it is quite touching.
This is an excerpt from the minister's letter in my church bulletin last Sunday. It is sad! And i just wanted to share it. As a background to the story, it is about Dr. Criswell a pastor from America, and a well known theologian at the time (he is known simply as the theologian in the text). The two were seated together on a plane, and got talking and the theologian told Dr. Criswell that he had recently lost his son to meningitis.
I quote, '. . . The child was beyond medical help and was going to die. The loving parents did the only thing that could do, which was sit with their son in a vigil.
Less than a week later [after he had been diagnosed], in the middle of the day, the illness began to cause the little boy's vision to fade. He looked up at his daddy and said softly, "Daddy, it's getting dark isn't it?" The theologian repelied, "Yes, son, it is dark. It's very dark." And for the father it was. The little boy said, "I guess it's time for me to sleep, isn't it?" The father replied, "Yes son, it's time for you to sleep."
The theologian explained to Dr. Criswell how his son liked his pillow and blankets arranged just so because he liked to lay his head on his hands while he slept. So, he helped the child fix his pillow and his boy rested his head on his hands and said, "Good night Daddy, I'll see you in the morning." With that the little boy closed his eyes and fell asleep. A few minutes later his little chest rose and fell for the last time. His earthly life was over all too soon.
The theologian stopped talking and looked out the window of the plane for a good long while. Finally he turned to Criswell and, with his voice breaking and tears spilling onto his cheeks, he gasped, "I can hardly wait for morning to come!"'
I wish i could claim these parts of the poem following that i understand, but i can't. Much to great for me to claim to have written. No, i rightfully acknowledge this as th work of Emily Bronte - No Coward Soul is Mine.
"No coward soul is mine, No trembler in the world's storm-troubled sphere! I see Heaven's glories shine,And Faith shines equal, arming me from Fear.
O God within my breast, Almighty, ever-present Deity!Life, that in me has rest, As I, undying Life, have power in Thee!
. . .
There is not room for Death, Nor atom that his might could render void Since Thou art Being and Breath, And what Thou art may never be destroyed."
13 hours ago