<TITLE>04. Par 37-43</TITLE>L-37 Paul Radar, a bosom friend of mine, that wrote my theme song, "Only Believe"; when he was dying yonder, he had just leaned his shoulder, head over on the shoulder of my manager, Mr. Baxter. He'd been a great gallant man who had traveled the seas and overseas, and everything, and he'd got mixed up out yonder, and got mixed up with some fundamentalists, and his message just worried him to death. And when he was dying, he was laying in the room, and near death, was struggling up close.
And here's the real victory of a man. He was always a great cutup, Paul was, as many of you knew him. They had the quartet from the little Moody Bible Institute down there. And they had the shades all pulled down around the windows, when he was going. He raised up, looked. He shook his head, and he said, "Who's dying, you or I?" Said, "Raise them curtains, and sing me some good, lively, resurrection, Gospel songs."

L-39 And when they begin to sing like that, he said, "Where's my brother, Luke? "
Brought his brother. Luke went with him like my boy does with me, and so forth. Luke was in the next room, crying. Luke come in, a great big wide-shouldered man, probably you know him. Him and Ma Sunday, and all of them, was there.
When he turned around, he took Luke by the hand, said, "Luke, we've come a long ways together. But, think of it, in five minutes from now, I'll be standing in the Presence of Jesus Christ, clothed in His righteousness."
 Lives of great men all remind us
 We could make our lives sublime,
 With partings, leave behind us
 Footprints on the sands of time;
 Footprints, that perhaps another,
 Sailing over life's solemn main,
 When a forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
 Seeing, shall take heart again.

L-42 I think of "The Psalm Of Life," the great English poet, Longfellow, when he wrote it. I stood by his grave, here a few months ago. I thought of his great poetry and what he give to the world, and I said, "Psalm Of Life" was one of my favorites.
Death always was a fear. Man feared it, all the way from the beginning. Way back, from the garden of Eden, man feared death.

L-43 I think of the great prophet, Job, when he set there that time and he knew he was going. He spoke of the great sermon there, that we get from Job 14. How he watched flowers; how they died and rose again. How he watched the trees; if it blows over, tears down, the wind tears it up. "In death, yet it lives again," he said. "Through a few drops of--of water, yea," he says, "it lives." We watch our--our--our animals, and so forth, as they live and die. Everything that has a moving being about it, when it dies, it never lives no more.
So Job wondered how it was that God could take a flower and make it live again, and yet he couldn't live again. He said, "Yea, a man giveth up the ghost; he wastes away, and where is he?" He said, "His sons come to honor him, but he perceive it not." Then he said, "Oh, that Thou would hide me in the grave, that Thou would keep me in a secret place, until Thy wrath be past. Thou appoint me a times and bonds, and I cannot pass. But if Thou would just keep me in the secret place until the day of Thy wrath..."


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