November 20

2 Timothy 4:6‑8
“For I am now ready to be offered, and the time of my departure is at hand. I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith: henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, shall give me at that day: and not to me only, but unto all them also that love His appearing” ―2 Timothy 4:6-86For I am now ready to be offered, and the time of my departure is at hand. 7I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith: 8Henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, shall give me at that day: and not to me only, but unto all them also that love his appearing. (2 Timothy 4:6‑8).
WHAT a word to come from a dungeon death-cell. Bereft of all that ordinary men consider necessary to make life worth-while, Paul the prisoner of Jesus Christ was able to rejoice in the Lord as he looked back over all the way he had come, and looked onward to the glad hour when he should lay his armor down at the Redeemer’s feet and receive from His hand the crown of righteousness, that blessed award which is reserved for all who love His appearing. The apostle’s wish, expressed some years before (Acts 20:2424But none of these things move me, neither count I my life dear unto myself, so that I might finish my course with joy, and the ministry, which I have received of the Lord Jesus, to testify the gospel of the grace of God. (Acts 20:24)), that he might finish his course with joy, had been gloriously fulfilled. He had fought in the good conflict for truth and righteousness. He had kept the faith and now he anticipated his home-call with joyful confidence. To him Christ was all and Christ was enough!
“Ask those who now their palm of victory wave,
Conquerors through Him, who died the lost to save,
If now they murmur at their former lot,
Or wish they had escaped one mournful spot?
No, you would hear each grateful pilgrim tell,
That vale of grief was blessing’s richest well:
The pools of trouble, filled with heavenly rain.
Turned into myrtles every thorn of pain.”
―J. C. Deck.