By Jim Nichols

As a university professor, I have written hundreds of letters of reference. Most of them have been for students applying to a professional school or for a scholarship or job. Occasionally, I have composed a letter for a colleague applying for a promotion or exciting growth opportunity. A recent recommendation request, however, was unique; it was from my college roommate.

My old roommate (and I use the word “old” in multiple ways since he and I are the same age) and I have stayed connected through the years. When we both had young families, our communication was more frequent, but it has continued even now. He is an adult who has lived a full life. Married and with children, he has been employed as a teacher, an administrator, a fine craftsman/carpenter, and other jobs. He is smart and creative. He has had significant health concerns and personal tragedies.

He contacted me because he needed references to accompany his application for a graduate program at a religious seminary several states away from where he lives. His application involves the usual material— transcripts, identification of career goals, personal history, and written references. Keep in mind that this guy is over eighty years old.

I am spectacularly impressed that he has found this new direction for his life and has the courage to pursue it. There are two spinoffs that are clear to me.

If I were writing to university students, I would ask them, “Who are the older people you admire because they are adventurous and brave? What can you learn from them? Is it a grandparent, or uncle or aunt? The neighbor lady who used to bake bread and cookies for you? What are their characteristics that you would like to copy?”

I would then urge them to contact that person and tell them you think they are fun and that their life inspires you. We need to treasure these important life models. 

The second impulse takes me to the hospital emergency room where my chaplain responsibilities often lead me. It is not necessarily as exciting as it appears on television, but there are bursts of high activity; many different medical people, each with a specific responsibility, are gathered and working as a team. There is frankly, in a manner of speaking, medical rescue occurring. This rescue from death is glorious and redemptive—but it is, ultimately, temporary given the transiency of human life. Even the individuals in the Bible who Jesus raised from the dead died again.

An elderly man in another country wanted to visit a friend who lived at a distance. Both the man and his friend were in extremely fragile health, but both also knew this might be the last and final opportunity for them to be together and share friendship and prayer in this life. The visit would require a long public bus ride over what you and I would consider “third world” roads. It would take a toll on his body which was already drained from age and illness. Nevertheless, he made the trip to see his friend and, upon returning home, explained that he believed life is more than number of days.

That is worth pondering. “More than number of days.” Are you and I willing to commit to that concept? Is it acceptable to us to understand and accept the temporariness of life and that there are worse things than losing years?

Christians may be confident of eternity because of their belief that Christ’s resurrection means a resurrection for us also. We can wish that this would take away our personal fear of our own death, but that is not realistic. There is still a fear of the unknown that is inevitable. 

Writer Eric McLaughlin suggests that we should strive not for the absence of fear, but for the presence of hope. For those of us who take the Bible seriously, hope is not dreaming for a possibility. It is, instead, a confident expectation that God is good and therefore his promises and future are good. We look into God’s past dealings with his followers, and we see redemption and security even in suffering. Even though our present may supply despair, our faith decision is that God will not abandon us eternally, no matter how many days we have.

Jim Nichols is a retired Abilene Christian University biology professor and current hospital chaplain