Julian was a tall, thin, well-spoken elderly man in his mid-eighties. He had outlived his brothers and sisters and the wife he had loved for 64 years. He was a joy to sit and talk with, always happy and a great storyteller to boot.
He never seemed down about the fact that he was alone now but did on occasion say he and his wife were always sorry they could not have children. All in all I looked forward to visiting with him in his home and making sure that his neighbors and friends kept close tabs on him day and night.
Julian was declining more and more each time I saw him and he knew it better than most. He had lived a faith-filled life, knew his God well by the name of Jesus and did not at all fear death. He longed to see his wife again and any time God chose to take him home was just fine with him.
Life is truly a journey, one that we all share, and we can’t help but think about how we get from here to there. Julian spoke often about his readiness to go home to heaven but never mentioned how he would get there. I was speaking with him late one evening when he told me he heard footsteps in the hall each night now and wondered who was coming for him and how he would arrive. I thought it a good time for a visit.
While Julian lay quietly in his bed, I sat on the edge and held his hand. I explained that while we usually take a plane or bus or train to arrive at our destination, this time would be different. I told him that the angel, sent by God himself, would accompany him into heaven at just the right moment. The angel would come into his room and take him directly. Patting the blanket that covered him, I very carefully explained that he did not have to get up from his bed again because his angel would be traveling with him this time. He would arrive in heaven at the perfect moment because God had planned it that way. Julian went off peacefully to sleep. The next call I received was from the friend who was sitting with him that night; Julian had arrived at his eternal home.
