I rolled over in bed this morning, put on my glasses and picked up my phone, ready to scroll through the early posters on Facebook. The first post I read was about a young man on our church staff. When I say young, I mean young. Married to his bride less than a decade and father of two precious little girls.
I didn't know Ash personally. But, I do remember him sharing one evening during a service about how many years earlier, he had been contemplating ending his own life. Instead he walked through the doors of a place called Hope, and met the Savior. His life was forever changed. He became a bright light in a dark world.
He had been sick, but was still working. Still leading small groups. Still going on mission trips. Still loving his family. He was in church Friday night. But somehow between Friday night services and Monday morning, his body gave out. He left this life and entered the next.
We, (and when I say we, I mean, ME) so easily complain about meaningless irritations. We take for granted that we'll live to see another day. We fail to be grateful for so many blessings and instead complain about insignificant, trivial irritations. Then, in the blink of an eye, someone in our midst is taken from us. Gone forever from this world. Gone too soon in our estimations.
Every breath we take. We ought to be thankful. RIP Ash.