"I'm dying alone because the church replaced community with programs and nobody actually knows me anymore."
How it sounds in your head: We used to have Sunday dinners, prayer meetings in homes, real fellowship. Now it's three services, fog machines, and 'connect cards.' I've been in hospice three weeks and the only visitor was the intern checking a box. I'm dying alone in a crowd of strangers.
"For He Himself has said, 'I will never leave you nor forsake you.'"
-- Hebrews 13:5Enemy using the legitimate failure of institutionalized Christianity to obscure the ACTUAL PRESENCE of the Father who never leaves and the cloud of witnesses surrounding the dying saint.
The visitation log has two names in three weeks: the hospice chaplain (paid to come) and a ministry intern (required to come). Sunday attendance was 800 but his bedside is empty. The building grew while the family disappeared. The loneliness is CRUSHING.
When Elisha's servant saw the enemy army surrounding them and panicked, Elisha prayed that God would open his eyes—and he saw the MOUNTAIN FULL OF HORSES AND CHARIOTS OF FIRE surrounding Elisha. The invisible realm was MORE crowded than the visible threat.
I REFUSE the lie that I'm dying alone because the room is empty. IT IS WRITTEN that He will NEVER leave me nor forsake me—the Father is here, Jesus is here, the Spirit is here. The cloud of witnesses surrounds me. Angels are on assignment. I am not alone; I am SURROUNDED by the invisible realm. The church may have replaced community with programs, but I have COMMUNION with the Godhead. IT IS WRITTEN that I am blessed coming in and going out—and this going out is INTO HIS ARMS, not into emptiness. I cross from one crowded room (earth) to another (Heaven). The BARAK blessing means I am carried, not abandoned. I am going HOME, not into darkness.
Father Himself is sitting at your bedside with tears in His eyes, counting down the moments until He can pull you through the veil into His arms—you're not dying alone, you're dying SURROUNDED, and the crossing is just seconds until the greatest embrace of your existence.