Pass Me Not

I read somewhere that every second, two people in the world die. Now it's up to four and by the time I finish this sentence, it will be 16, if the math works out. Talk about counting what really counts. Who likes counting deaths? Somebody must do it, I just don't imagine that they like it.

I drive by a lot of houses most days. And some nursing homes too. I used to drive by with little or no thought as to the occupants. Now, I seem to know a great deal about many of them. And I know more than I ever imagined about who is near death in town. My mind works geographically, positional writing in other words. I anchor the stories with the place. And there are many stories from all over town that are in my brain box. I will drive by a house and faces come to my mind. And stories; and I'm amazed all over again. Various places in town are so much richer now. Many of those stories are incredibly amazing. And I would not have known them if it were not for my work of going into those homes instead of passing them by.

There is an old hymn, Pass Me Not Oh Gentle Saviour.

  1. Pass me not, O gentle Savior,
    Hear my humble cry;
    While on others Thou art calling,
    Do not pass me by.
    • Refrain:
      Savior, Savior,
      Hear my humble cry,
      While on others Thou art calling,
      Do not pass me by.
  2. Let me at Thy throne of mercy
    Find a sweet relief;
    Kneeling there in deep contrition,
    Help my unbelief.
  3. Trusting only in Thy merit,
    Would I seek Thy face;
    Heal my wounded, broken spirit,
    Save me by Thy grace.
  4. Thou the spring of all my comfort,
    More than life to me,
    Whom have I on earth beside Thee,
    Whom in Heav’n but Thee.

I like Saviour instead of Savior. Just sounds more substantial.

The Lord does not pass us by as Fanny Crosby reminds us in this hymn. He is with us when we are born and through every chapter of our lives and right on through our death and beyond. He is our God and we are His children and He will not pass us by.

You too can join in this Sabbatical work of stopping and resting with someone, not passing them by. So many of us go looking for life in its excited glory by running into the world, leaving behind all the ones who have gone before us. They are old, they are not important anymore, they aren't able to do much. What do we tell ourselves about them, maybe not in words but in vague thoughts?

The truth is, they are fascinating, rich, wise, capable, full of zip and treasures to behold. Do not pass them by. Visit this week, by phone, or internet, or in person. I'll see you out there.