A high school friend -- a good friend of mine -- died this past week. I'm not sure of what ... kidney failure, heart failure, whatever. It wasn't a surprise. We all knew it was coming, so we had time to prepare.
I had a lot of thoughts about him. We met at church and we were going to the same high school. He was black and I was not. He was blind and I was not. We had differences, but we shared a love for the Lord. With he and I and the third -- this guy's parents were Columbian and Chilean -- we made what fellow students termed "the United Nations" ... and not in a good way. But we didn't care. We hung out together, went to church together. We were friends. For life. Ah, memories!
I was thinking today, mulling over his passing, that for the first time in his entire existence he can now see clearly ... and he gets to see Jesus. A perfect picture of perfectly healed, physically and spiritually. I have to admit; I'm kind of jealous. I'm looking forward to that closer walk with Jesus. Farewell, my friend, my brother.
2 comments:
I am of course sorry for the loss of your friend. Rejoicing that he now is at home and praising God among the saints!
Glad to hear he truly is in a better place. He gets to be where we really want to be, by the Son's side, or more appropriately, at His feet.
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