Even in his final days, even with his final breaths he didn’t seem worn.
He struggled for every breath but used each one to bless those of us who had gathered around him to say goodbye.
We thought we had come to support him, comfort him, shelter him from fear.
But as I leaned close to him, my ear straining to hear his feeble voice and my heart aching for more time with this dear friend, he blessed me.
He showered me with words of encouragement, life and strength.
He reminded me how incredibly God had blessed me with a beautiful man to love me the way God saw me.
He celebrated the friendship we had shared for more than 40 years.
And he pointed me to the great comforter.
My tears splashed onto his sheets and he smiled at me, his gaze steady.
I felt ashamed to be so week In the presence of this incredibly strong man. I thought I was supposed to be strong for him.
But as he had so many times in the past, my friend Peter, never thinking of himself, walked me through another storm.
I was overwhelmed by grief but even more so by the reminder of the awesome privilege it had been to call this man of grace, peace and integrity my dear friend.
Also that we are all walking each other home…some arriving sooner than others and much too soon for those of us left behind.
“Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live, and everyone who lives and believes in me shall never die. Do you believe this?” ~ John 11:25-26
