Saturday was not spent shooting or riding or doing wonderful things.
I went to a Memorial for a fine man that had gone to the Lord. He was about my age, had served in Vietnam, found a lovely date in Seattle, got married, raised a family, member of the United Methodist Church, and participated in ministry to prisoners, and others going to be walking closer to God. The church was full. His last two years was spent fighting cancer and touching his family. He looked like a wonderful grandfather.
He made me uncomfortable with how well he fit into people, that he would hug - even me. Makes me think that hugging is along with raising an empty hand, a sign of trust not just affection. Ever hug someone carrying a firearm? You know pretty quick. I was glad I had known him a little and there were so many others that had known him better. The Kingdom of Heaven is ever growing, isn't it?
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