Dear CCW family,
The year is 2028. A man drove up in a paneled truck, parked in the driveway, then introduced himself at the front door as “the man with the hospice bed.” They were expecting him.
Everything had been done that could have been done, according to his choices, and now there was nothing left but to die. He was a very old man, but was conscious and could communicate — a remarkable privilege for almost all of those days. This bed marked the turning point from hopeful recovery to his final days of life on this present earth. The bed was a symbol only, but it was a potent one.
The bed was unattractive with a brown plastic panel on each end apparently meant to simulate wood, worn and scratched with years of use. The man had some difficulty attaching the side rails “because they had been put on wrongly the last time,” he said. The mattress was carried in, sheets put on, and a colorful quilt was laid on top. Photos of his family were on the bookshelf beside him — his wife, his children, their children, his siblings. He would often pray for them over the final days. With some effort he was transferred from his bedroom on the second floor to the main floor, with its view out the window. His precious wife, his companion in marriage for 68 years, picked some flowers from their own garden and set them close by. He had always loved her spring flowers covering their backyard. His Bible was there for his family to read to him. Everything was made beautiful for him, which reached his heart. You could tell that he relished every little kindness.
Then, unceremoniously, the front door opened without a knock and an older man came in to stand at the foot of the bed where he hung a sign on the inner side of the bed for the man in bed and others to see. He didn’t tell them who he was or why he had come. On it was written: Last Stop to Heaven. And in the lower corner was written an instruction in one word with a parentheses — (over). He walked out without a word.
Those unadorned words on the sign filled him with a very pure joy which he could not explain. He often wept feeling this joy when looking at it over the next few days. When all was settled the first day, however, he asked for the sign to be turned over, for he expected more words about heaven, or instructions for how a person without Christ would be allowed to go there. Yet when his wife turned it over, it said only, “Last Stop to Hell,” with the same instruction — (over).
This very bed had been the last stop on this earth for many on their way to hell. “How many?” he wondered. Among all the sweet words from his wife and family over the remaining days, they would pray together for those who would lie on this very bed in the future as their last stop into eternity. It felt to him like this was his final important task, even after he began to lose his ability to speak.
Then, on the last day of his earthly existence, at 4:49 p.m. his breath went out slowly, but not in. The brown plastic-paneled hospice bed could hold him no longer!
Thank you for reading the story above. It’s fictional, but real. Marco Scouvert from our team just returned from Uganda and Kenya where he preached the greatest story of all. Here’s a brief report. Some of you were aware and prayed for him. Thank you so much.
Marco Scouvert: Uganda and Kenya 2026
On the flights over, I had two significant evangelistic conversations with people from Catholic backgrounds and gave each of them a copy of Pursuing God to read. In Uganda, some of the younger pastors seemed to be, in a good way, provoked by the passage we were studying in our Bible intensive. One of them asked the group, “Why does our denomination continue in traditions and practices that don’t line up with what we see in the Bible instead of just using the language and practice of the New Testament?” Pray for C.K. (our host and a high-ranking leader in the group), and the men, that they would conform to the Scriptures, guard against the threat of false teachers, proclaim all the truth of God, and work hard with their hands to be a blessing to others. At the men’s conference, I taught about the believer’s freedom from sin in Christ and maintaining sexual purity. Pray for permanent fruit, particularly for the copies of Delivered by Desire that were strategically given to different leaders to use with men.
In Kenya, we enjoyed sweet fellowship with the brothers who hosted us. We trust we were an encouragement to them and the saints. Meetings with students and police provided opportunities to preach the gospel to several hundred people. The majority of church leaders at the Bible Intensive were from a Pentecostal/Charismatic background with unsound beliefs. We were challenged and encouraged by Hebrews 12 and the sovereign love of God that believers experience in our afflictions. Pray for the leaders who hosted us as they desire to train dozens of such pastors in town and the surrounding rural areas. Also ask that the true gospel and sound doctrine would lastingly penetrate through the confusion of the prosperity heresy and word of faith doctrine prevalent in those places.
Jim Elliff: Fire From Heaven?
About this time sixty years ago, I began ministry formally by becoming a youth director at Rosedale Baptist Church in Little Rock, Arkansas. I had turned 18 in early May. It was such a memorable experience. The church had 200 or so attenders. Very soon I was also leading the singing, and in just a few months I would be ordained and called Associate Pastor. I was then a freshman at Ouachita Baptist University where Elliffs had attended since 1904.
I planned a dramatic bonfire one night for the youth. With the help of the church men, we rigged up a wire from the side of the church building to the pile of boxes and wood that was to light up as the fire coming down from heaven. Only . . . we could not get it to light. Fire from heaven became a flop, but also spurred a good deal of laughter. That was the last bit of showmanship in my ministry. I’m so glad my plan was unsuccessful!
With Joy,
Jim (with Steve and Marco)