I started reading, distinctly and in measured tones, so that
all in the house could hear every word. And all were listening
attentively as I gave it, verse by verse, with stress on the
phrases which I planned to expound upon.
Then, I reached these lines:
LORD, MAKE ME TO KNOW MINE END, AND THE MEASURE OF MY DAYS,
WHAT IT IS; THAT _I MAY KNOW HOW FRAIL _I AM.
My voice faltered, failed.
There came a rustle and swish, as of a strong breeze sweeping
through the church. It swirled around me and the pulpit like a
benign whirlwind, slowing itself almost to a halt. I lifted my
eyes from the Bible, and there before me was God's angel of
death, hovering near-so near that his soft outspread wings
brushed my shoulders. He came closer. Gently he folded me within
ethereal wings and gathered me to his bosom. He bore me high and
far away, into the presence of Almighty God, making for me a
moment of ecstasy and inexplicable joy!
Quickly, the angel was gone, God was gone, and I was again
standing in the pulpit, shaken and amazed.
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