Forever Late 2

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I'm at the fruit woman's burial. Everyone is dancing and singing. They are all in matching attires of white and they sing and clap as they dance after her coffin: "Ile l'onlo, tarrara. Ile l'onlo..."

I can't feel the happiness that they feel. I just can't. 

"She lived a good life," I hear a man say behind me to his friend. 

"Yes. Very very good. She was so easy going, so gentle and nice."

Tears are threatening to fall from my eyes as the Holy Spirit reminds me of one solemn truth. No matter how good a life was, if it wasn't surrendered to God, it was headed for Hell.

But I can't tell them this. I can't ruin their celebration. 

From a distance, I watch a Priest pray over the coffin. "May her soul rest in peace." He said.

Again, torrents of tears fall from my eyes. If that woman had not given her life to Christ, her soul could never rest in peace. 

It was a bitter pill to swallow. Even for me.

Then they begin to pour sand into her grave. One by one, they pass the shovel round and fill up her grave.

Something inside me wants to run as fast as my legs can carry me to the grave. Something inside me wants to yell at them to stop so I can open her grave to tell her about salvation. Something inside me wants to wake her up from the dead and tell her that without holiness, no man shall see God. 

But my legs stay put. As much as I want to do that, I'm reminded that it is forever too late. 

The very second the fruit woman died, she was face to face with eternity. Face to face with her Maker. Her decision or indecision to accept Jesus on earth would determine her everlasting abode. There was nothing man could do at this point. 

I'm crying profusely at this point. The people around me are thinking I must have been very close to the woman for me to be crying this much. 

But I'm wondering if God could ever forgive me. 

Soon, I feel a peace hug me round my shoulders and I feel His familiar Presence. 

"Look." The Holy Spirit says,"

I lift up my tear filled eyes and look at the vast sea of heads that had come to celebrate the fruit woman's life. 

"For the fruit woman, it's forever late. But for these ones, it's not yet too late."

Peace floods my heart, erasing the pain of the previous days. God was giving me another chance. Another chance to tell people about Him, about eternity, about the Rapture. 

I didn't know who amongst those sea of heads I would start with, but I knew as well as I knew my name that I wouldn't miss my chance this time.