I remember the night before my mom died. I was lying on the floor beside her bed because we didn’t want her getting up in the night for fear she would fall. (She forgot so quickly that she was so weak she could barely walk - but walk to the bathroom she did - at 100 and a half - just not by herself)!

I was looking out the window and the sky was dark. - not too man stars! It was January 25th, 2021. As I lay there - on the floor - looking out the window - I saw that the sky was filled with faces. Faces of the elderly. Faces of the young. Faces of men. Faces of women. Faces. Hundreds of them. I didn’t recognize anybody specifically but I remember that these faces were smiling.

I was reminded of the verses in the Bible - “therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay side every weight, and sin, which clings so closely, and let us run the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and Perfecter of our faith.”

I imagined my Dad, my grandparents, my brother, my brother-in-law, Randy, Mom’s parents, and countless friends in that great cloud, cheering mom as she crossed over from this life to the next, encouraging her to finish her race with strength and dignity.

In the year, 1776, a poor tinker named John Bunyan was imprisoned in Beford Gaol. While he was there, he began to write one of the most famous books in the English language. Pictures crowded into his mind - quagmires and steep hills, sunny valleys and dark glens, a gloomy castle, a market town with the activity of a fair, a narrow road that leads to the Dark River and finally the Shining Gate that opens to the Celestial City.

Bunyan was forty-seven when he wrote the Pilgrim’s Progress. He used such great names in his book like - Mr. Greatheart, Mr. Faithful, Mr. Hopeful, Lord Hate-good, Evangelist, Obstinate, Pliable, Mr. Worldly Wiseman and so many more.

Bunyan tells the story as if it happened in a dream. It is the story of Christian - leaving the city of destruction heading to the Celestial City. It is the story of Everyman - the journey we all take - from this world to the next.

My own journey to the Celestial City began when I was a young child. My earliest memories are of my parents taking us to our local church - singing in the choir - learning the stories of the Bible - going to youth group - all those things and more. We were a family that embraced our faith - at home - in our church and community.

Like Christian - in the Pilgrim’s Progress - I’ve misplaced my “parchment” a few times and needed to retrace my steps to get it back. I’ve walked up the “hill difficulty” and stumbled and fallen and then been refreshed by fellow travellers. I’ve had more than one fight with the “Fiend - Apollyon” - flames and arrows coming at me with force, fierce battles that left me weakened , yet strengthened. I’ve walked through the valley of the shadow of death. There have been times when I’ve sought to live in Vanity Fair rather than keep my eyes on the Celestial City. I’ve spent some time in “Doubting Castle”. Sometimes I have been tempted to wonder where God is in all of this. The key word is tempted. Then I remember these truths - the same God who engineers our amazing universe knows the number of hairs on my head. The same God who parted the waters of the sea so one million Israelites were saved, knows when one tiny sparrow falls to the ground. Perhaps in the darkness of night I have been tempted to suppose God has overlooked me. He hasn’t.

I’ve read the story of the Pilgrim’s Progress countless times in my life and I’m always overcome when I read the part when Christian enters the dark river.

“Behind him, he could just see, looking back, a shadow in the sky, which marked the place where Doubting Castle stood. But ahead, there was a perfect view of the Celestial City. It’s walls and towers shone in the sun. Then just as he imagined he was safely there, Christian was quite stunned in what he saw. For, between him and the City Gate, flowed a deep, dark River. “You have to go through it. There is no bridge.” It was a fearful moment for Christian couldn’t swim. Yet, after coming all that way, he mustn’t falter now. He stepped into the River trembling and immediately began to sink. He was, more frightened now than he had ever been in the Valley of the Shadow. A great darkness and horror fell upon him. For this was the River of Death. But the troubles a man goes through in these waters are no sign that God has forsaken him. All at once the sun was visible through the mist. Christian felt new strength within himself, the water became less deep, the ground firmer underfoot. He had reached the shore.”

“And”, writes Bunyan in his book, “I was able to look in after him, I saw the streets were paved with gold. And in them walked - with crowns upon their head - the company of just men and women made perfect. And the bells of the City rang for joy. For Christian and his fellows had come to their true home. And after that, they shut the Gates and I awoke. And behold it was a dream.”

Perhaps - mine was a dream too as I gazed out the window and saw those faces in the window - cheering my mom on as she was about to cross her dark river. “Come on Alice - the river is deep - but the glories and wonder on the other side are so wonderful. No more pain. No more sickness! No more dementia! No more cancer! No more frailty! No more tears!”

“The Pilgrim’s Progress” by John Bunyan.