Yesterday, I visited the grave of a friend from college. I did an Internet search a few weeks back, only to shockingly find his obituary. In the past 18 to 24 months, I'd found evidence online that his life had taken a very dark turn. From there, I reached out in desperation, but my letter was unanswered.
The letter detailed my own authentic story and served to introduce my friend to Samson Society.
Now, as of last November, my friend is dead. He was 46 (my age).
As I stood there over the mound of dirt, I felt as if I'd failed my friend. Especially as it relates to our college days. I remember vividly how overwhelmed I was by him, having never met someone with such charisma and zeal for life. Unfortunately, back then in 1991, I found myself discreetly backing away, citing (internal) exhaustion. But that was a lame excuse. What truly motivated me was selfishness. I simply didn't want to be bothered by his unique, effervescent, highly volatile personality. Looking back, I regret abandoning him. Especially now that he's dead and buried.
I wonder if he actually received my letter from a year or so ago, and if he did, what he thought about it. Did he despise me for such tardy care and concern?
I now have even more resolve to be intentional as a men's minister. Know this, as a Christian man, you're no less qualified than I to do the same.
Keep sending those letters - tardy or not. I know I sure am.
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