Time To Die
“To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven: A time to be born, and a time to die…” —Ecclesiastes 3:1–2 KJV It may seem harsh, or even cold, to write what I’m writing now. You may think the distress I’m facing has hardened me somehow, but the opposite is true. I have softened. What has become clear to me is simply this: the character I call my friend has completed its purpose under heaven. At first glance, you might think I’m losing my mind by talking about my friend in acting terms. But don’t you see? That’s the realization itself. My Friend is an act—a form, a role, an expression. I’m not saying this to avoid pain. The pain is real and unchanged; I am losing one of my dearest friends soon. There is no escape from that reality. What I am trying to point toward is what life has shown me over and over: forms change. This is a good moment to speak the parable of the flock again. The Flock ...