My good friend Dave Kennedy died last night. He was among the most gracious and kind people I have ever known. Several years ago, he was the support vehicle driver for a bicycle trip we did from Yorktown, Virginia, to Jefferson, Oregon, about 2,500 miles. I was having some significant muscle cramp issues on the trip, so I slept in the passenger seat of my pickup truck. Dave felt terrible for me and slept in the driver’s seat. That was about six weeks. I got so I slept pretty well, and he did as well. We had a lot of pleasant, personal, and spiritual conversations sitting in that pickup for six weeks, trying to get some sleep. It is funny the way you make connections with people and how you become friends. Today, I got a call from the son of an old friend I hadn’t seen in 25 years. My old friend is in the hospital and isn’t going to live many more days. The son said that his Dad had asked to see me before he died, so I went and visited him tonight. He couldn’t talk much, so it was a one-way conversation, but his kids, whom I remembered well, were reminiscing with me. I prayed several times while there for my old friend, holding his hand. Death is sort of surreal. But as Paul writes in 1 Corinthians 15, as believers in Jesus, death has lost its sting; now it is a gateway into the glory of heaven.