Late last week, a friend of mine died unexpectedly. While he had dealt with cancer, it was a seemingly routine surgery that lead to an infection that ultimately killed him.
I spoke with him at the beginning of the week and we planned to get together later that week (which turned out to be the day he died). To say I was surprised to discover his death is an understatement. Regrets, I have a few.
During our last conversation, I had felt a nudge to discuss my faith. And although I mentioned a few things, I didn’t completely discuss the issue. And now, I regret my cold feet.
It reminded me about a story from Dwight Moody’s life. Moody spoke one night to a huge crowd. ”Come back next week and hear the rest of the message,” Moody told the crowd, planning to preach salvation. Ms. O’Leary’s cow had other plans, and that very night the Great Fire of Chicago started near where Moody spoke, likely killing or displacing everyone in the crowd. The meeting never reconvened. Moody regretted not finishing the salvation message that night, and vowed never to assume there would be a tomorrow to tell someone the good news: Christ died to save us.
So while I am remorseful that I didn’t say the things I felt lead to, I join Moody in his pledge to never be in this position again.
