Her Name is Georgia, Part 10

“Jesus answered, ‘I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.’” – John 14:6
 
When Georgia called me from a pay phone, I knew she wanted company. I told her I’d meet her at her house in a few minutes.
 
Georgia began our conversation by stating, “It won’t be much longer.” She’s spoken to me about dying many times, but I usually don’t make a big deal of it. Once I commented, “Georgia, you’ll probably live to be 100!” No matter what I say, though, she’s convinced the end is near.

Although I’ve had spiritual conversations with Georgia in the past, tonight I was much bolder. I sensed the Spirit leading me to question her about eternity.

“Georgia, do you ever think about what will happen to you when you die?” I asked.

“I’ll be up there,” she said, pointing toward the ceiling.

“Why do you think you’ll go to Heaven?” I asked.

“I’ve been good all my life,” she said.

“Georgia, many people think that if you’re good, you go to Heaven, and if you’re bad, you go to Hell. That’s not true. The Bible says that Jesus is the only way to Heaven. You must tell God that you need Him and ask Him to forgive you of your sins.”

“I’ve never sinned,” she replied.

Wow, I thought. I couldn’t believe she actually said that. I was shocked.

“Georgia, everyone has sinned. Only Jesus was perfect. I make mistakes every day. When I do, I tell the Lord I’m sorry. I admit that I need His forgiveness. That’s what Easter is all about – Jesus dying on the cross to pay for our sins so we don’t have to.”

She thought for a moment and then said, “But I started going to church when I was in kindergarten and went all the time.”

“You can read your Bible every day and go to church every Sunday, but that won’t get you into Heaven,” I explained. “You have to know Jesus and have a relationship with Him. Not just know about Him, but really know Him.”

At this point, she changed the conversation. She began talking about her family and her past. After listening for a few minutes, I noticed most of her memories didn’t seem too pleasant.

“Georgia, when was the happiest time in your life?” I asked.

“I’ve never had that,” she said quietly.

I didn’t know what to say at first. I hurt for her.

“You were happy when you were teaching, right?” I asked.

“Oh, yes. I enjoyed the children very much,” she replied.

We talked some more, and soon it was time for me to leave. As I backed out of the driveway, Georgia smiled and waved. My heart was heavy as I drove home.

Miss Georgia is such a mystery to me. I’m fascinated by her, and yet I feel as if I only get bits and pieces of who she is and who she has been. I see a woman racked with years of pain, although I don’t know exactly what caused her suffering, nor do I understand the depth of it. Tonight, however, I caught a glimpse of intense sadness in her eyes.

Georgia may be right. She might only have two or three months left to live. Or she could be around for another 10 years. Either way, I must always be prayed up and ready for every opportunity to share truth with her. She needs Jesus. There’s no time to waste.