Last Words

Having the name “Woody” has never been easy in Latin America. When we first lived in La Paz, Bolivia, I tried to accommodate to linguistic realities and told people my name was Rolando. However, as Bolivians got to know me, several said, “That is not your name. We will call you Woody.” Unfortunately, as well-meaning as they were, they were wrong.

You see the “Woo” sound doesn’t exist in Spanish. Unless the Spanish speaker also has some English speaking practice, my name is invariably pronounced as Goody or Boody or some derivative.

I was once called to the death bed of a man whom I had had the privilege of discipling for several years. Don Miguel’s family indicated that I should put my ear by his mouth because he had something he wanted to say to me. As I strained to hear the breathy words, Don Miguel whispered, “Gracias, Judy,” and died.

Obviously, at this point it was a little late to correct his pronunciation.

It is probably evidence of my twisted personality, but “last words” have always fascinated me. You can tell a lot about how a person lived by their final comments in this world.

Joe Hill was executed by firing squad on November 19, 1915 in Utah. His last word was "Fire!" You can honestly disagree with the man’s politics and still respect that kind of fortitude.

Lou Costello’s (of Abbot and Costello fame) last words were, “"That was the best ice-cream soda I ever tasted." Now, that was a man who enjoyed the finer things in life.

In the perfect example of lack of preparation and procrastination, Francisco “Pancho” Villa reportedly said (in Spanish, of course), "Don't let it end like this. Tell them I said something."

Of course, the last words of faithful Christians are of special interest to me.

The converted slave trader, John Newton, who became a beloved minister of the gospel and regular sermon illustration, whispered as he lay dying, “My memory is nearly gone, but I remember two things, that I am a great sinner and that Christ is a great Savior.”

He may have only remembered two things, but they were the right things.

There was a little remembered attempt by seven Anglican missionaries to evangelize the Tehuelche and Yaghan people groups in southern Argentina in 1848. Unfortunately, all seven died of starvation. Allen Francis Gardiner was one of the last survivors. His final diary entry read, “Great and marvelous are the loving kindnesses of my gracious God.”

A missionary dying of starvation and thanking God for his loving kindness. I wish I had known that man.

Almost the last thing F. B. Meyer, Baptist preacher and friend of D. L. Moody, did in life was send a postcard in a shaky hand to Lindsay Glegg with the words, “I have raced you to heaven. I am just off—see you there. Love, F. B. Meyer.”

When Meyer asked his doctor how much longer he had to live. The doctor replied (and this proved he was a Brit doctor), “Just a few more hours, say till four o’clock.” Dr. Meyer went to sleep and woke later in the afternoon. His first question was, “What is the time, nurse?” “Six o’clock,” she replied. “Tut, tut,” said Meyer, “this will never do. I ought to have gone two hours ago.”

When the brilliant scientist Michael Faraday was dying, someone asked him, “Sir, what are your speculations now?” Faraday replied, “Speculation? I have none, thank God. I am not resting my dying soul on guess-work, but on the finished work of Christ. “I know whom I have believed and am persuaded that He is able to keep that which I have committed to Him against that Day”

Of course those words are taken from the Apostle Paul’s last words, or, at least his last letter – 2 Timothy 1:12. He might have written them days before he was beheaded in Rome. They were not only some of his final words; the confidence expressed in them was all he had left in life.

If given the opportunity, I hope that my own final words will have something of humor while displaying great confidence. Having been told many times that I am not a good patient, I hope they demonstrate grace to those around me. More than anything, when everything else in this earthly body has been used up, I hope that all that remains is the finished work of Jesus.

And oh, I also hope I don’t mispronounce anybody’s name!