It’s been well over 18 months since my best friends letters quit coming. The last from a jail somewhere in Nova Scotia, with a piece of artwork inside like every week. In it he told me that his health was continuing to get worse and that he feared if anything were to happen that the facility wouldn’t provide the help that he required.
I haven’t heard from him since. It’s been over a year now since he should have been released. Since I met him 9 years ago he never missed a single week in mailing me, never missed calling me when he said he would, and when he said he wouldn’t.
I know he is gone, and yet each week I open up the PO Box and eagerly go through each bill hoping that there is a letter from him in there somewhere. Yet, there never is, and hope slowly and reluctantly fades and I place my faith blindly in the Lord because while my friend was a criminal, his whole life, he was also a Christian and his letters from jail would encourage me in my walk with the Lord each week.
We would discuss the books we were reading, the studies we were doing, what we had learned and how walking the walk with God daily was better than not walking it at all and that a daily goal was far easier to achieve then one created with a form of long commitment.
His last handmade card to me still hangs with a clothes pin on my Truly Blessed birdcage from DaySpring and I can’t help but worry that he is still alive and suffering somewhere that he can’t reach me from. Lord knows I have tried to find him, but there are no obituaries or news articles or arrest records or anything that I can find. It’s like he just stopped. Stopped what? I don’t know… writing? Breathing? Living?
I trust that the Lord has him safely wherever he is, I pray that there is no more suffering and that the lack of mail is because my friend is wholly whole with the One who is and always will be Holy.