I have been fortunate to have had several key mentors in my life who so altered the trajectory of my spiritual journey as to catapult me to perpetual gratitude. One such mentor has been James M. Houston, founding Principal and former professor of Regent College, a small seminary on the edge of the UBC campus in Vancouver.

I write this in response to his recent passing yesterday, March 15 at age 103, feeling joyful and humbled to have been befriended and deeply influenced by him.

When Houston turned age 99 in November (2021), his children talked him into sharing his thoughts from the extended care hospital he was moved into. Titled “Letters from a Hospital Bed“, these winsome letters were written by a man who knew he would likely not make it to age 100; but he did. His blog records:

Letters from a Hospital Bed is a series of reflections by Jim Houston, now entering his 100th year, in which Jim seeks to capture and reflect new insights of his ever-discoverable God, revealed through his own hospitalization, for the encouragement of all care givers.

Engaged in a New Project

And so Jim, as he insisted on being called (and with which I was constantly uncomfortable), proceeded to engage in what he termed a “new project” – “a new genre” to him as he said, just when he thought he had finished all writing:

I have been reflecting on this hospital experience and realizing that all of you, as my world-wide community of friends, have dear ones of your own who are themselves in hospital.

For many years, I hated the sight of hospitals. I avoided them. They reminded me so painfully of events in my own childhood that were very difficult…

… And yet, so many of us must enter these places to be present and caring to our own loved ones. These letters, I hope, will give you some insight into the experience of the one who is hospitalized, as I am now. I hope to encourage you through our own experience of becoming so deeply dependent on the care of others, for even the most basic of needs.

I have had my good days and some not good at all and yet through it all, I find the Lord so present and instructing me. Perhaps, by sharing the lessons we are still learning, I can the better be of encouragement to each of you.

The Urgency of the End of Life

What a gift to the rest of us who are not so aware of how close we are to death; what a gift of insight and last words to savour from a wise and humble man who has given and given, and gave until the end. In his 14th Letter he confessed:

At this stage of my life, I find that I enter into sleep without really knowing whether I will wake or on what side of this ‘veil’ I will find myself next.

There is something sacred about the last words of a person who knows the urgency of the end of life – and yet – who does not know on which side of the ‘veil’ he would find himself next. In his 7th Letter, written just after Christmas 2021, he reflected:

In earlier months this year now ending (2021), I have been far more eager to die than I find myself now. It is not that I am no longer weary with the work of this life, but as long as the Lord gives me breath, I want to use it to be urgent for His glory. Isaiah reminds me to “seek the Lord while he may be found” and so as we enter a new year, I urge each of us not to make false promises to long dead gods, but to seek Him who knows us each so well and holds our identity safely in His hands.

Go well, dear friends, into this good new year, not because you have resolved much but because your Heavenly Father, through Christ, has redeemed much.

Between Wakefulness and Sleep – Filled with Music

In his 22nd letter, written in anticipation of Easter, he writes that he had been finding that moment between wakefulness and sleep to be filled with music:

Whether I am dreaming, and realizing the dream, or in a kind of reverie, I don’t know, and I’m not sure that matters much…

I know of nothing quite so trusting as to fall asleep, to yield consciousness to the One who holds our identity secure in His knowing of us. The darkness falls at His request… but so does the Light come forth! As He is Risen, so shall we each one day. That is why this sweet pillow of praise comforts so. May it be for each of you also.

Compelled to Sing a New Song

In his 30th Letter, he wrote about being compelled to sing a new song despite a “deep and abiding and frightening darkness that seems at times to crush our spirits, and silence our capacity to even desire.” He knew it as “a brooding malaise” that had hung over “for days and sometimes weeks,” and yet his closing prayer was:

Dear Lord… Even when my eyes are cast down, protect me from slipping into the dark mire of depression by putting a new song in my heart, giving me even the desire and strength to sing. Lord, let me so trust you that I sing that new song, that I anticipate your goodness, that I expect your enjoyment of even me and so, bring me joy that can spill out for others, even when they are cast down and their eyes are not lifted up. Amen.

Living Joyfully with His Companionship

At his 101st birthday Jim had just one request of his children:

I’d like a silver cross from the four of you.” He wanted us to engrave the words, ‘When I am tempted to be proud, Lord take me to the cross.

In response his children wrote: “We have seen in Dad’s life a greater and greater desire to be utterly dependent on the Lord. He is happy and at peace here because the Lord has not called him home yet; but you can be sure that when his days are up, he will be glowing in gratitude and love to be united with His Heavenly Father.”

Of course this is completely consistent with what Jim writes in the last paragraph of the last book he co-wrote (at age 101):

In your final years don’t wait or lose the opportunity to bless your children, grandchildren, and even great-grandchildren.

A Vision for the Aging Christian: Preparing for longer life and the tasks of care giving.

Finally, on the occasion of his 103rd Birthday (!)

Christianity Today published the article: “What do a 103-Year Old Theologian’s Prayers Sound Like?” It is as insightful and tender as Jim was – carrying on the theme of prayer in which he so influenced me and many others.

Goodby good friend – you were faithful to end – now enter our Abba’s presence with joy.

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To learn more about Jim and to see his prolific body of work, go to James M. Houston’s personal web page.

To see his memorial page, go to Remembering Jim Houston.