I lost a friend last week. While fighting leukemia, he contracted an infection. The last time I spoke with him, his cancer was in remission. He talked extensively about God's grace, saying that the kindness shown by the nurses, who at one point took turns spoon feeding him while he lay barely conscious, assured him that there was love in this world. He told me that God had given him strength. He was sure he would beat the cancer. About a month later he was dead.
This ending means nothing without a quick snapshot of who my friend was. He was mean. Really mean and judgmental at times. He had a temper that probably outmatched the California brush fires. But, he could take what he dished out. He never forgot a kindness. And, he never was too proud to apologize. He was smart. Really smart, and funny too. Months before he was diagnosed with cancer, he went through an epiphany of sorts. So, he began to eat healthier, work out and generally take better care of himself. The weight started coming off him, a horrible foreshadowing of what cancer would do to him. His illness started from a flu that wouldn't go away. After a series of tests the doctor diagnosed his mystery flu and his year long battle began. "I've found God," He said to me. "Through this mess, I've found God."
I don't know what to 'do' with his death. I don't know what to learn or unlearn. A whole bunch of scripture swirls through my head. 'Honor your maker in your youth...' Let the dead bury the dead.' 'I know that he will rise again...' 'Teach me to number my days.' I'm not sure how to begin processing them. I'm not even sure that I should. But, I do know this. I should have called him more.
This ending means nothing without a quick snapshot of who my friend was. He was mean. Really mean and judgmental at times. He had a temper that probably outmatched the California brush fires. But, he could take what he dished out. He never forgot a kindness. And, he never was too proud to apologize. He was smart. Really smart, and funny too. Months before he was diagnosed with cancer, he went through an epiphany of sorts. So, he began to eat healthier, work out and generally take better care of himself. The weight started coming off him, a horrible foreshadowing of what cancer would do to him. His illness started from a flu that wouldn't go away. After a series of tests the doctor diagnosed his mystery flu and his year long battle began. "I've found God," He said to me. "Through this mess, I've found God."
I don't know what to 'do' with his death. I don't know what to learn or unlearn. A whole bunch of scripture swirls through my head. 'Honor your maker in your youth...' Let the dead bury the dead.' 'I know that he will rise again...' 'Teach me to number my days.' I'm not sure how to begin processing them. I'm not even sure that I should. But, I do know this. I should have called him more.