On Mr. Harris and Frail Bodies

Whenever Mr. Franklin Harris snoozes at church, I wonder if the ninety-five year old man with whom I sit will awake again. He is a wonderful example of someone who loves Jesus, and he brims with wisdom. His body is frail, though.

He recognizes his disability consisting of his inability to stand for long and his use of a walker. Mr. Harris is more hunched than my grandma was, and she went from being a tall woman to one under five feet. Every week I half expect to hear news of Mr. Harris’s passing simply because he is so aged and frail. Seeing him nod off again today reminded me that these bodies in which we live are only shells.

oikos psychou

The body is

a shell.

Soon it will be empty

like a hermit

crab.

Where will your soul

go?

Every time Mr. Harris mentions his heart surgery from a few years back, current doctor appointments, or his frail body, he turns those same sentences into clauses worshipping His Creator. Week after week he reminds me, “God is good.”

Mr. Harris doesn’t know why he remained alive after his heart surgery but to glorify God and share Jesus for a little while longer.

Mr. Harris reminded me of God’s faithfulness when I was grieving my aunt’s death last month. I asked him how to grieve properly, and he replied that he had a wife years and years ago who died, and his second wife also passed away. He clearly knows heartache, but the Sunday I asked about grief, he recognized God’s faithfulness in the midst of pain.

Whenever my ninety-five year old friend leaves this earth, I will rejoice that he will have left pain and heartache behind. He will meet his Savior, Jesus Christ, and see God’s face for all of eternity. I will grieve my loss, not his.

He has been excited about knowing Jesus and has been faithful to God since he was a child going to saw-dust and chair-lined revival meetings with his mother. Today he told me that he was excited about Jesus then and wanted to tell his friends about Him, and he said that still has not stopped.

Mr. Harris points every conversation back to God, and I know that when his soul leaves his bodily shell, rejoicing will ensue. I will grieve him as I would a dear friend or close family member, but my soul will be delighted for him, wishing I could go as well.

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