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Let me close with a true story of a humble black pastor in the inner city of Chicago who was diagnosed with terminal cancer.

“He was in his late sixties and had been a minister throughout his adult life. His love for the Lord was so profound that it was reflected in everything he said. When he and his wife were told he had only a few months to live, they revealed no panic. They quietly asked the doctor what it all meant. When he had explained the treatment program and what they would anticipate, they politely thanked him for his concern and departed. The cameras followed this little couple to their old car and eavesdropped as they bowed their heads and recommitted themselves to the Lord.

In the months that followed, the pastor never lost his poise. Nor was he glib about his illness. He was not in denial. He simply had come to terms with the cancer and its probable outcome. He knew the Lord was in control and he refused to be shaken in his faith.

The cameras were present on his final Sunday in his church. He actually preached the sermon that morning and talked openly about his impending death. To the best of my recollection, this is what he said;

“Some of you have asked me if I’m mad at God for this disease that has taken over my body. I’ll tell you honestly that I have nothing but love in my heart for my Lord. He didn’t do this to me. We live in a sinful world where sickness and death are the curse man has brought on himself. And I’m going to a better place where there will be no more tears, no suffering, and no heartache. So don’t feel bad for me.

“Besides,” he continued, “our Lord suffered and died for our sins. Why should I not share in his suffering?” Then he began to sing, without accompaniment, in an old, broken voice:

Must Jesus bear the cross alone,

And all the world go free?

No, there’s a cross for everyone,

And there’s a cross for me. “

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