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From YourSITE.com Monday Moments
The four of us—Gary, Bill, Ross and I—used to find ways to get together at ministers’ meetings. It was lunch one day, dinner the next, pie and coffee late at night. We were the young hotshots, the four horsemen and, we imagined, the hope of our denomination. Our churches were thriving. Coming from different parts of the country, we looked forward to otherwise humdrum clergy gatherings to be able to talk, strategize, pontificate, trade stories and laugh—above all to laugh—together. We recommended books to one another, talked about political issues within the church, and agreed on what ought to be done next to advance the kingdom of God. Though we seldom saw each other more than twice a year, we were friends . . . good friends. Time is a thief who comes in the night, taking things away slowly, a bit at a time, so that we hardly recognize the loss. First it was one of us who missed a conference—other things to attend to. Then it became convenient to stay home occasionally—less expensive, more time with the family, see you next year. And when we did get to meetings, there were new obligations—committees, appointments, interviews for staff we wanted to hire. We were still friends . . . good friends . . . but the four horsemen had become middle-aged men having coffee in the lobby. Then one of us was no longer a pastor—domestic issues. In our many conversations, that had never been discussed at all. Then another left church work too—resigned under fire from his church. No hint of that over pie. Still, we were friends, even if circumstances were different and contacts were rare. Then came retirement, pensions, Medicare, AARP. I hardly knew anyone at clergy conferences any more, much less saw the once-young hotshots. The thief had pretty well cleaned out the house. We buried Ross last week, victim of a swift cancer. I grieve the loss of a good friend, but more, I celebrate the memory of good friendship, of great company, of a time of life that was rich and sweet. I remember my grandfather shaking his head sadly at the news of the death of a long-time friend. “One by one I lose them” he said—and then, tapping his chest, he added, “but the friendship stays right here.” Rest in peace, Ross. You are missed, but the memories remain. The friendship is still right here. ************************************ You Are Rich, a collection of sixty Monday Moments, is now available as a book. Send $12.00 for each book ordered to Monday Moments, P.O. Box 641, Excelsior, MN 55331. Make checks payable to Monday Moments. (Minnesota residents add 6.5% sales tax.) Monday Moments are written by Dr. Michael A. Halleen. You can contact Mike at mhalleen@att.net to be added to or removed from the distribution list. © Copyright by YourSITE.com |
