My friend was murdered.

Yesterday while on Facebook, I discovered horrible news.  One of my friends from church and high school was murdered in his own home.  I am struggling to determine my feelings about this event.  Heath was not a close friend, but a friend nonetheless.  I rooted for him, when I heard that he was a DJ on a local radio station, and was even more pleased when I heard he moved to the local Christian station.

One of my fondest memories of Heath is we were in the youth room after a young adults meeting, and he was writing a song.  I gave him some advice on the concept of the song and he appreciated the help.  I don't know if he used the advice, and to be honest, I'm pretty sure I never heard the song.  I just remember the connection.

Connection.  Maybe that's what hurts so much.  Even though I have not seen or spoke to him in 5 years, the possibility of connection was always there.  Now the connection is lost until I go to heaven.  Comforting and yet frustrating at the same time.

David Heath Jackson, you left too soon; we will miss you.  "When we all get to heaven, what a day, a glorious day that will be."
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The Connection

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