Wilton Smith Parr, Jr.

Philippians 3:12; Revelation 21:3-4

Central Baptist Church—Lowesville, VA

16 September 2007

I did not know Wilton on the same level as many of you knew him. From all accounts, however, Wilton was a very special individual. To some he was father, to others grandfather, husband, uncle, father-in-law, colleague, or friend. To God, he is a beloved child.

My memories and contact with Wilton were mainly in the confines of one hospital room or another. His soft-spoken demeanor could fill a room, even without his speaking.

In Wilton’s latter days, a medicine patch was causing various hallucinations. I heard stories of trains scaling the walls, people hiding behind closet doors, and watched Wilton searching for cats hiding under the covers. Laura told me of Wilton riding horseback as he held her hand from the hospital bed. After the medication issues were resolved, however, Wilton laughed at his own experience. He did not take himself too seriously, but lived in the confidence that life was to be relished, even amid the ills of cancer, the effects of therapy, and the side-effects of medication.

Wilton exuded peace and confidence whenever and wherever I saw him. He seemed to recognize that family and friends were more important than the material things of this world. He treated them with a quality of care and attention. Wilton enjoyed people and treated them with gentleness, warmth, and a welcoming smile. When I walked into the hospital room to minister to Wilton, I often felt as though I were the one being ministered to. In Wilton’s journey through life, he kept focus on eternal values, investing his life in the lives of others.

A poem Mary wanted me to read speaks to this sense of living beyond the concerns of this world:

• Life is but a stopping place,
• A pause in what’s to be,
• A resting place along the road
• To sweet eternity.
• We all have different journeys,
• Different paths along the way,
• We all are meant to learn some things,
• But never meant to stay…
• Our destination is a place
• Far greater than we know.
• For some, the journey’s quicker,
• For some, the journey’s slow.
• And when the journey finally ends,
• We’ll claim a great reward
• And find an everlasting peace,
• Together with the Lord.

Those to whom I have spoken mention Wilton leaving a positive influence upon their lives. His life spoke of pressing on to the goal of living in eternity with Christ Jesus as Lord. He spoke to me of that faith, hope, and confidence which sustained him throughout his illness. May Wilton’s example of trust in Christ Jesus as Lord grant us the courage and strength to join in his life of faith in Christ Jesus.

Wilton no longer suffers the physical ailments of cancer and all its ill-effects. Yet those who loved him suffer the loss of his presence. May each one find comfort in the knowledge that Christ Jesus suffered the death of loved ones, both father and friend. He experienced death himself as well. As victor over death with all its grief and pain, he invites us to cast our cares upon Him.

John writes Revelation to a church facing severe persecution. His message throughout is that victory in Christ comes only through death. In the face of the suffering, persecution, and distress of the church, John casts a picture of heaven. His words do not negate the suffering of the faithful, but denote God’s care for their suffering and pain. In the image of a mother gathering an injured child on her knee, John writes that God will personally wipe away every tear.

God understands our pain and sense of loss. God cares enough to walk with us and gather us unto himself, granting comfort and strength along the road of grief.

May we each find comfort in our personal grieving, strength to carry on, and peace amid the turmoil of loss through the presence of Jesus Christ who died that we might live in fullness of life.

—©2007 Christopher B. Harbin