"You mean all those times you voted Republican," I ask sitting across from him, "didn't count for anything?"
He laughs a sad laugh before answering, "No."
Sarah gives me a doubtful look about my line of questioning.
"So you're telling me if I brought a sackful of cheese Krystals .... you wouldn't eat any?"
"I do love cheese Krystals," he laughs, "but I don't think I could get one down."
"You had a steak the other day," his wife enthusiastically reminds him.
Shaking his head, he grabs his belly and sighs, "If I could just control the pain."
"You got good drugs" I ask.
Holding up his latest prescription he says, "These work for about 15 minutes."
"Take more," I say.
"That's what our Son said," his wife adds.
"Micheal," he says looking at me, "I ain't afraid to die ... I am afraid of what I'm leaving behind ... her," he says pointing to his wife and the words grow moist as he loses them.
Silence hangs like salt in the ocean air.
"For everything there is a season," he quotes looking for Divine justification for a really shitty situation.
Sometimes I wish I hadn't gone to Seminary ... spent years studying Scriptures ... initiating endless conversation with God who prefers to keep quiet ... walking the fine line between faith and fear.
"Here is the conclusion of the matter, "the book of Ecclesiastes ends, "Fear God and keep his commandments ... For God will bring every deed into judgement, including every hidden thing ... whether it's good or evil."
I don't think God has much judging to do here.
My friend is doing it himself.
