Whilst we still can

I sat next to him, quite often...on Thursday afternoons. He used to stretch out his right leg to the centre. He never bent it at the knee. Never. Even when he walked it was with a limp as he dragged it with every step, kept it straight.  I later learnt it was because he had a metal inserted after an accident some years back.

He was talkative, actually loud and quite chaotic whenever he had had one too many. When he was sober, he was quiet, reflective and uncomfortably calm. Very intelligent and with a unique sense of humour. He, I am certain enjoyed listening to the Word of God and he often made some great contributions to the discussions.

A few weeks back he came to our fellowship as usual...the one we've been having with him and others at their kafunda since 2017, (he faithfully attended by the way). He was sitted on my left. He had had something to drink, it smelt. He was crying. He was worried for his older brother who had been sick for a while now but was seemingly growing worse. He asked us to go with him to his home to pray with the brother. We did.

His brother lay there, very weak. A drip hang over his head. We prayed. We left.

A few days/weeks later we receive the news that he is dead. No, not big bro. Big bro is back on his feet and well, praise Jesus! Our brother from the Thursday fellowship had died.

The irony.

Sometimes the people that are dying are right under our noses. They die slowly under our very watch. Sometimes we get so used to the way people are that we forget to be intentional about being there for them, loving them, reaching out to them.

I've personally been reminded to ensure excellence in all I do, to give my best at every opportunity, to seek to grow in my love for God and for His people...with a love that doesn't give up. A love that keeps hoping, believing, seeking and standing strong. A love that doesn't grow weary.

Tomorrow is Thursday, we will be one person less.