It’s Ash Wednesday, and we continue to be reminded that life is short.

When the Air Force sent me to track satellites in Turkey in 1970, my suite-mate was John Morgan, a fellow resident of South Carolina and graduate of The Citadel. We stayed in touch and connected briefly in 1975 while he was getting a master’s degree from the University of Colorado. Here’s a picture of June and John with Mark, 2, and Melody 3 months.

John moved to Charlotte, and we had been in touch through FaceBook and our ministry updates over the past 10 years, at least. He affirmed our ministry and occasionally posted old pictures that he had found of us. Planning a short southeast trip this spring, we decided we would swing by Charlotte to have lunch with John… Too late. He passed last July. I wrote to his sister, and she told me:

John died July 8th  at his home. He was not sick, doing well, had just had a check- up and no significant problems.

Doing well…no significant problems…dead. My age exactly.

The older we get, the more of our friends we bury. I just heard from the wife of a friend with pancreatic cancer. I last saw him in November when he told me that the treatments weren’t working anymore:

Tracy went to dance with Jesus this morning. We will have a celebration of life on February 20th…Dress is casual and colorful. Just like him.

A friend of my son Mark, a family man in his 40s, dropped dead while running on a trail here in Monument. He had just talked with his wife at 5:38p, and the phone’s tracking stopped at 5:40p.

It is better to go to the house of mourning than to go to the house of feasting, for this is the end of all mankind, and the living will lay it to heart. (Ecclesiastes 7.2, ESV)