Yesterday morning as I was driving to work, images of a bespectacled Paul went through my mind, and I was briefly sad.

Paul was a guy I met probably 8 or 9 years ago. I had met him through a church Sunday School class we were in, but our connections went a little deeper. I learned shortly after meeting him he was also a guy who liked to dance, and had been in a few circles I was in long before I had gotten there.

Paul was about my age, and shortly after we met, he was diagnosed with something bad. In a short time, the slight, trim man was carrying an oxygen tank and was bound to a cord.

In less than a year, he died.

I thought of his face randomly yesterday, and realized I had outlived him. And I was reminded how quickly also life can go.

And how random it seems, when a body decides to break down.

I remember you, Paul. A face, a few words perhaps. You copied some music albums to CDs for me, and I still have them. Thank you.

May your place with Him be full of dance.