Twelve years ago today we buried a brother, and who I consider to be the best friend I’ve ever had in this life. Besides Christ of course. It was easier than the past years, but talking with him is continually missed. The guy was rough, but he was also what I needed at the time in order to begin a walk with the Lord. This was written three years ago. In memory of my buddy, Jason.
“Today is not nearly as hard as it once was, because I believe in my heart that my brother is with Jesus. He was an imperfect man, covered by the blood of our Savior.
This man was hard-headed, mean, a hard-core addict, and had the mouth of a drunken sailor. But underneath his rugged exterior, I knew him to be a gentle and kind man. He taught me a lot about life, about Jesus and all of the bad habits that controlled me for many, many years. What a part he played in my life. The bad, and I mean really bad places we used to go to together. Drug houses, dark alleys with dark people, and hideaways full of the devil’s works. I mean really, I’m lucky to be here.
But Jason loved Jesus. If you knew Him, you would probably not agree. But if you really knew him, like I did, you would have seen the pain in his eyes, and in his words. The demons, that he was fully aware of, and how he really struggled to keep them at bay. Knowing what I knew about his life, I could see why he struggled. How he would pray in the name of Jesus, and was not afraid to tell you about the importance of the death, burial and resurrection of our Lord.
He was a very complex man. He had trouble practicing what he preached. He scarred me physically and mentally, taught me terrible things, but he also played a huge part in my dedication to Jesus, and taught me important lessons. He showed me Scripture, and planted the seeds. I love ya buddy. I believe we will meet again.”