My friend died tonight – a little over an hour ago. When I got the call, I just knew. But, I think I knew when it happened. Earlier this evening, in the middle of what passes for choir practice at church, Henry suddenly loomed large in my head and my heart. I felt so strongly that I needed to pray for him.

Earlier today I called Henry. I had such a strong urging inside me to call him. He sounded bad – but he wanted to talk. We used to talk at work. Stand outside and solve problems, discuss philosophy and theology. And so, today we talked about general stuff and how all he wanted to eat was ice cream and fruit. It was a good talk, good sharing. I’m pretty sure at this point that I was open to the urging of the Holy Spirit when I made the call. I’m just as certain that at church the Spirit once again prompted me.

So, is this post about me or about Henry? Both and neither. I think it’s about being sad that my friend has moved on and it’s about that being for me a near occasion of grace. I find it far better to be aware and feel the pain than to be asleep and miss being a part of life.

Thank you God for Henry’s life. Thank you for allowing me to share a small piece of that life. And thank you for the prompting that led me to call and talk with him this morning.