My old friend Deacon Ray died last week. He was old. I'm sure when I'm that old (if I'm ever that old), I won't think I'm old. He was 88. I actually think that's pretty young.
Ray used to see me in different places, like funeral homes and hospitals and clergy days and always greeted me by asking "is everything under control?" I loved seeing him coming because I knew that would be his first question. Things almost always seemed a little more under control right after he would show up and ask that simple question.
Keep an eye on me, sir. Keep an eye out for me. God bless you. Everything's pretty much under control.