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OPINION

He Died So Close to Jesus—and Almost Missed Him

The opinions expressed by columnists are their own and do not necessarily represent the views of Townhall.com.
AP Photo/Charles Rex Arbogast

There’s a moment in *Heaven, How I Got Here* that absolutely guts you.

It’s the moment when the thief realizes how close he came to missing everything.

He was right there. Just a few feet from the Savior of the world. He could hear Him breathe. He could see the blood. He could listen to every word Jesus spoke.

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And still—he almost missed Him.

Colin Smith brings that realization to life in gut-punching detail. He lets the thief narrate his own remorse—not about his crimes, but about how long he spent mocking the very One who came to save him.

See, at first, both criminals were railing at Jesus. It wasn’t just the crowd. It wasn’t just the soldiers. It was both men hanging beside Him.

He joined in.

He mocked the only One who could help him.

And he almost ran out of time.

There’s something terrifying in that. And something tender, too.

Because it’s not just his story—it’s ours.

We live in a culture so close to Jesus. We’ve got Bibles in every hotel drawer, apps in every pocket, and churches on every corner. We’ve got access to truth 24/7. Podcasts. Preachers. Posts.

And yet… how many of us are still mocking Him with our lives?

How many of us treat grace like a gimmick? Or worse—just ignore it?

The thief almost did. Almost died like he lived—angry, hardened, bitter, blind.

But something shifted.

Maybe it was the way Jesus stayed silent under insult. Maybe it was how He prayed for His enemies—“Father, forgive them…” Maybe it was something deeper, something divine.

Whatever it was, grace broke through.

The thief began to see the difference. He saw that he belonged on that cross. But Jesus didn’t. He saw that he was dying for what he did. But Jesus… was dying for someone else.

And he realized: “If I don’t say something now—I never will.”

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That’s when it happened. The most honest, raw, desperate prayer in Scripture:

“Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.”

No pretense. No speech. Just a broken man who realized—this is the King. And even if I only have minutes left, I want to be His.

And Jesus said, “Today.”

That word again.

Today.

Not someday. Not if you prove yourself. Not if you live a better life. Not if you earn your way back.

Today.

There is so much comfort in that word. Because it reminds us that God isn’t waiting for us to hit some invisible benchmark before He welcomes us home.

He’s just waiting for us to turn.

That’s what Colin Smith captures so powerfully in this book—the miracle of a moment. The mercy of God colliding with the mess of man. And how close we all are to either heaven… or hell.

The thief had a front-row seat to redemption.

So do we.

But seeing Jesus isn’t enough. Hearing about Him isn’t enough. Being near to truth isn’t enough.

You have to respond.

You have to believe.

That’s what makes this story so gripping—and so urgent. Because the thief on the other side? The one who kept mocking? He died the same distance from Jesus… and slipped into eternity without Him.

Two men. Same distance. Same pain. Same opportunity.

One chose surrender. The other chose scorn.

And the line between heaven and hell is that thin.

You might be a good person. A churchgoer. Maybe you’ve even read the Bible. But have you responded? Have you said what the thief said? Have you looked at the bloodied face of Jesus and said, “Remember me”?

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Because that’s the only prayer that saves.

The thief didn’t ask to be taken off the cross. He didn’t ask for relief. He asked to be remembered—to be claimed, covered, forgiven.

And Jesus gave him more than memory. He gave him paradise.

You can have it too.

But don’t wait.

Don’t assume you’ve got more time. The other thief probably thought the same.

One heartbeat is all that separates regret from redemption.

So here’s what I want you to do right now:

Click here to watch the full-length film adaptation of the book: https://openthebible.org/heaven/

Don’t put it off. Don’t say, “Maybe later.” Don’t scroll past this moment.

Because if the thief had waited another five minutes, we’d never know his name. He’d be just another casualty in a cruel world.

Instead, he’s the first trophy of grace. The first man to walk into glory with Jesus by his side.

That can be you.

You’re not too far. You’re not too late. You’re not too lost.

But you do have to decide.

Do it today.

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