This is Life, Sometimes It Is Hard

A close friend died suddenly this past week. We had been friends since 1984. We worked in church planting together, served our denomination in leadership capacities, and supported each other’s lives in more ways than I can count. For years he would fax me his sermons on Friday morning. I’d watch each page print, gather them, and read.

When we met at national meetings, there were many late night conversations. We shared a lot about our personal lives. He was a man of integrity and character. My first trip to Colorado happened at his invitation.

I knew this friend well. He was the Inspirational Pattern on the DiSC Classic (I/D.) The Enneagram wasn’t all that popular back then, but I’d be pretty sure he was a three with a strong two wing, or vice versa. He loved empowering others, but he also was pretty single minded, with his eyes fixed on the goal. For that and many other reasons, he was quite successful.

My friend wasn’t perfect. He tended to be a little self-referential, as most I/D folks are, but not in an off putting way. He was just very excited about whatever project he happened to be working on. I’ve known few who championed others more than he did. He was always more theologically conservative than I, but that didn’t much affect our friendship.

We talked a good bit when it was time for him to retire. I met with his leaders a time or two about how they might honor him. I was at his retirement dinner, quite a delightful affair. It was obvious he was very loved. As with most of us who led a large ministry for a long time, I knew he would not sit still in his “retirement.” I was not surprised when I heard he was working encouraging pastors all over the nation.

He was one of the very few I told about my gender dysphoria a very short time before I came out. It was the last time we ever spoke. I understood his decision to no longer be in contact with me. For him it was theological. Just because I understood that did not make it any easier.

No one told me he died. Cathy’s sister told her. I have a few friends who I imagine would have told me, but they probably assumed, understandably, that someone local would have reached out, though no one did.

I will miss my friend. I’ve already missed him for eleven years.

This is life. Sometimes it is hard.