Four score and fifteen years ago, Milo Gilbert was born in North Dakota. And after a long life, and rather full one, he died two weeks ago. Never heard of him? Well, up until last month, I never had either. But through his daughter Teri, I went to visit him in the hospital. He was blind, and I was told hard of hearing-note, I think some old people just get more selective to who and what they respond to, I know I do, and as he and I talked and listened, we communicated just fine. Even told me he would take me up on the motorcycle ride I promised when he got better. The doctors had advised him at 95 years old to have an operation to relieve fluid from the brain, the rest of him was in such good shape. How many 95 year olds are told to have surgery? And I got to meet him the day before the surgery. And as far as I know, I am the last friend that Milo ever made.
I almost didn't go to my new friend's funeral yesterday, but did, as a show of respect for Noella, his wife, and Teri. But a funny thing happened as I sat among the hundreds of people coming out to celebrate his life. I realized I had come to celebrate my friend, and no matter we only met once, and only a short time before his death, we were still friends. And this was more than a celebration of life, it was one of relationships-from his wife, to his children, to his grand children and all the way to his great grand child, each had a relationship with Milo, and the preciousness of each relationship was shown in words yesterday.
I sat with Jessica, who mentioned to me that she thought they were going to do a PowerPoint presentation of his life. But I told her that this wasn't a PowerPoint crowd, not realizing my words at the time. For these emotions and memories went much deeper than a picture. A picture can be worth a thousand words, but a memory-well, sometimes there aren't words, and the best are stored in the heart, where no PowerPoint can invade them.
And as I sat listening to the memories of my new, old friend, I thought of another man, and the last friend he ever made. Some 100 score years ago, Jesus hung on a cross between two thieves. One was soon to die alone, but the other called out, "Save me!" And Jesus promised him that He would see him in paradise that day. The last friend that either man would make on earth, but who would be spending eternity with each other. A relationship of quality, and of a depth no PowerPoint can or ever will fully demonstrate. An eternal friendship, that's what Jesus calls it, for He calls us friends. And I find as I get older, you can never have too many friends, but you can never have one more loving and important than Jesus.
Milo waited 95 years to meet me, I only had to wait for 56. Don't put off getting to know Jesus today. And you will find, that although He died almost 2000 years ago, He is very much alive, and well, and still hangs out with His friends. And will for eternity. Don't miss the chance to spend it with Him. As friends.
He leaves the choice up to you. We may have missed His death, don't miss His resurrection. Milo didn't, and that gives us a few years in eternity to swap stories, and get to know each other. And hang with our other friends, and of course our best friend, Jesus.
Like Milo, I met Him as a stranger, He took us in, and calls us friends. I can't think of a nicer way to say goodbye to my new friend Milo, or a better thing to have in common with him. Our common bond-Jesus Christ. Make Him your friend today. Tell 'em Milo sent you.
love with compassion,
Mike
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