I WISH I WOULD'VE DONE MORE

My last blog was about two people whom our church family lost in the past few days. I called it a "Tale of Two Deaths," but everyone knows that these sort of things come in threes... so today, I write about my friend Paul H..

More than a year ago, a poor and sad man named Paul began to attend our church. He didn't say much, and it was clear that he didn't have much... but his mother was dying... and he needed comfort.  So, he kept showing up and we kept ministering to him. He had lost his future to drugs many years before I met him, but his grief... over his mother and his own wasted life... was palpable. In any event, he was forced out of his mother's house shortly after her funeral, and we lost contact with him... until the day before yesterday... when he called to tell me that his "fiance" had died. He was overwhelmed, he said, He knew he should be doing something, he said, but he didn't know what to do. They had taken her body to Iowa City and he couldn't get there. Moreover, he didn't have the money to bury her in a new dress, and since she was gone, he didn't know how he would make ends meet. He said that he had called a dozen places for help, but no one would help him. He was lost, he said. her love was all he had, and he needed someone to help him.

I could feel his anguish, but I knew that our resources were limited... and besides, I had to teach two adult classes on the day he called. So, I told him that we would try to find a way of helping him. I could conduct his fiance's funeral service without charge. Maybe we could help with some clothing. I didn't know what we could do, but I told him that we would let him know. I made it clear that we would get back to him, but still, he called twice while I was teaching the first class. I knew he was in a panic, but I didn't want to be pushed. I didn't want to get into his life too deeply. I didn't have the time to drive him around town. I had other things to do, and he had already told me about the many dysfunctional people in his world. Besides, the church didn't have enough money to make a real difference in his life, and I had some church members who didn't want me to help him at all. Didn't he know that? I knew that he needed help. I knew that his world had imploded. I knew that he had no one else to turn to- no where else to go- but I didn't have the time or the resources to be his savior. I needed to stick to my priorities, which are preaching, teaching, and visiting church members. Surely, everyone would agree with that.

Well, it doesn't matter now. I won't have to worry about what to do now- at least not with Paul... because he was found dead... in his motel room...earlier this afternoon. Paul was a broken man, and he knew he it. He knew that he had messed up in life, and he didn't blame the world for his own actions. He hadn't improved his lot in life at all, that was clear, but his sincerity touched my heart, and he was deeply in love with two of the few people who stood by him in times of need. He was guilty of addiction, guilty of failing to develop any strategy at all of improving his life, and guilty (in the end) of being extremely poor. None of this was my fault. Nor am I under any illusion that I could've saved him. There is only ONE Savior... BUT I wish I would've done more! Sometimes I write to inform. Sometimes, I write to stir the heart. Sometimes I write to challenge the status quo. Sometimes I write as therapy, Amen!