A Vanishing Mist

This evening, we went to the funeral visitation of a man who in previous years was a wonderfully dear friend. We had shared some very treasured things and moments—we each had sons that were great friends, baseball teammates, and college roommates. Although the family had moved away a few years ago, the memories shared have kept them close to our hearts, regardless of the miles and the time span between.

It feels like our friend was too young to die, particularly since he was a few years younger than us. He was a special man to us—kind, personable, laughing, loving baseball, always happy to chat. We called him a “schmoozer” because he could talk so easily and freely to anyone. He gave his time and energy to serve on all kinds of boards and committees. He had a knack of running into important or interesting people, and soon they were his friends also.

Our friend was successful, prosperous, privileged. He was blessed with 2 children and with 4 young grandchildren (you have to be there to appreciate that) and had many years of living a wonderful life. He played some of the best golf courses, went on cruises with his family, and had season baseball tickets to his beloved Cardinals. But, in the end, all he had to take with him was his faith.

At a funeral home, I find myself face to face with priorities. I am reminded that we bring nothing into the world and take nothing out with us. Perhaps each of us should consider what we will leave behind. Were we a blessing to those around us? Did we show the way for others to find the path to eternal life? Did we help them when they needed help and encourage them when they needed an uplifting word?

I am also reminded of a verse in James 4, “You do not even know what will happen tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes.”

We are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes. If we find a friend along the way, we are indeed blessed. We were blessed to know Dan.