Last Words

On December 29, 2022, my Daddy, Pastor Russ Merrin, went to be with his Savior. I have struggled with words to adequately describe my jumbled mess of feelings. Where do I even begin to describe his life, his calling, and his dedication? There is no doubt in my mind that the words, “Well done, good and faithful servant,” were bestowed upon him as He entered into everlasting life with his Savior.

Everyone knew my dad as a pastor. He embraced that calling so much that he would “pastor” just about every living thing he came across. Countless times, I remember him witnessing to fast food workers, gas station attendants, and medical professionals. It shouldn’t have taken me by surprise to see him in his last weeks of life sharing the Gospel. I sat next to him as the hospice social worker approached his bed. She had come to discuss his end of life. My family sat by his side as the lady began to speak. Dad listened respectfully for just a few minutes, and then it was time to end that conversation. “Let me ask you a question,” he said to the social worker. “If you were to die today, where would you spend eternity?” She indicated that she would go to heaven, but that wasn’t good enough for dad. He continued asking questions. It became apparent to my family that the social worker was not a true believer. Dad kept pressing. He kept giving the Gospel and quoting verses. She sat patiently and eventually left with my mom and brother to make arrangements for dad to go to hospice care. I remained in the room with dad, sitting as close to him as his bed allowed. He started crying. I asked, “Dad, what’s wrong?” I will never forget his reply. “She’s not saved.” Now we both were crying. “I know, dad, I know.” Dad had just been told he was dying, and his concern was not for himself. He wept over the lost soul that had just sat beside his bed.

Our family was so blessed to have a few weeks to sit with Dad, talk, and ask questions. It was hard in those final days to bring up the inevitable, but there were some things I wanted to say. “What am I going to do without a Daddy? We have been going strong together for 41 years.” His reply was simple, confident, and perfect: “God the Father will never leave you nor forsake you.” Just like the social worker, he pointed me to the Lord.

A few days later, Dad’s body lay in an unconscious state. Mom sat with him. Without ever opening his eyes, Dad said with perfect clarity, “Keep your eyes on the Lord, and you'll be ok.” Those were his final words, the last tidbit to hold onto for the rest of our lives. Those words were perfect. You see, once again, he pointed us to the Lord, and the Lord alone.

The last few years of Dad’s life were ever so hard. He had lost and suffered

so much. I never heard him complain. He just kept pressing onward, getting closer to the glorious day He met his Savior. He didn’t need the riches of this world. He didn’t need his church. He didn’t even need his family. In the end, the only thing that mattered, the only thing that he needed was the Lord.

The weight of the mantle he has passed onto our family is heavy. As Dad was drawing his final breaths, my husband, James, was placing Bibles and Christian literature in the hospice facility so that others may find the perfect hope that all of us can find in Jesus Christ. Dad went to be with his Lord, and we took his mantle. He taught us well. He taught us so well. Jesus. It’s all about Jesus.

“For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life. For God sent not his Son into the world to condemn the world; but that the world through him might be saved.” John 3:16-17