why?

i met him for the first time 45 days ago. he was one of the few to respond to a presentation i gave about Amsterdam. no one i talked to seemed to know who he was.

he was late meeting me. his car had broken down. his daughter had to give him a ride. "Nothing new," he said calmly. "It happens." He spoke very softly.

i wasn't sure at first what to expect of this time with him. his graying shabby hair, mustache and crooked yellowing teeth gave an immediate impression of a deadbeat. but than i heard soft whisperings of his heart from deep within.

he had been so moved to hear that we were trying to reach people in Amsterdam. the broken. the oppressed. he himself came from a broken past. siblings who had died of alcholism. he was just finishing up his counseling degree, and was already working with recovering alcoholics and drug addicts. sharing the love of God with them. giving them hope.

he thought it was so neat that i was going to Amsterdam. a place where many are in bondage. he knew he couldn't go to Amsterdam himself, but he wished so much, to help in some way. he was so glad that i called. so glad that we could meet. so glad to help, so eager to be a part of what we were doing.

i was touched by his heart. i tried telling him how much i admired him for what he does. his working with alcholics and addicts humbled me. he didn't take compliments well. here i was asking him to help support me in Amsterdam, while he was already doing so much--giving hope to the oppressed. i even tried introducing him to people in church that night. he had only been going for three months--he was so shy and soft spoken, i don't think he had tried to meet many people there. but i wanted him to be known! i wanted to proclaim the good heart within him to everyone!

"Meet Neal!! Look closely into his heart and see how brightly it shines!!"

-----------------------------------------------------------


Last night I called his house. I had been needing to follow-up with him.

"Is Neal available?"

-A woman answered. She seemed indignant that I had called. "Are you a friend of his?"

How do I answer this? I barely new him, but I felt like his friend.
"No, I'm an aquaintance of his."

-"Neal's not here anymore." ...


He died.

He overdosed.

"I don't know what happened, he had been clean for so long. He got a little depressed. He got confused..." His mother trailed off. "His funeral was today. We buried him."

My heart is breaking over this. a million things run through my mind. how could he have lost hope? how could he not see what a gem of a man he was? how uniquely beautiful he was? how he was affecting people? What if I had tried to call only a few days earlier? Why did he die? Why did God have it that I would meet this man? I'm so sad that he's gone, that I didn't have a chance to talk with him more.

I'm so sad that he lost hope in living.

I can only hope that he is truly Living now.


And it awakens me to the preciousness of every opportunity that we have with people around us. no matter how insignificant they may seem in our lives.

"Be very careful, then, how you live--not as unwise but as wise, making the most of every opportunity, because the days are evil." Ephesians 5:15,16