As you come to him, the living Stone--rejected by men but chosen by God and precious to him--you also, like living stones, are being built into a spiritual house to be a holy priesthood, offering spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ. 1 Peter 2: 4-5

Saturday, October 16, 2010

What do you title a blog post about a friend dying? I've read enough, I've experienced enough, I've watched enough TV that usually, I have some clever title, a play on words, a pun even (my personal favorite). But this. There are simply no words.

I've sat here on the couch, laptop in my lap, tears in my eyes, lump in my throat and written...and deleted. And written some more...and deleted.

What must it feel like to know that you are dying? Not some day. Soon. To know that your child will grow up without you. That your time on this earth is over, that God's plan for your life is coming to a close. What must that feel like? Is it as sad as it makes me just thinking about it, just thinking about how he must feel?

And still I write and delete. Write and delete. About my own mortality. About my faith. About the unpredictability of life and God's sovereignty and love and loss. Write and delete.

There are simply no words.

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