Tuesday, February 13, 2007

Every seventeen minutes in the United States someone takes their life.

In a few minutes Charlotte and I will get in our car and drive for fifteen minutes down the freeway to our “old” church where I will speak at the memorial service for a dear young friend. Kevin was just twenty-nine when he took his life.

Kevin was manic-depressive. This is a genetic disorder. It caused Kevin to “march to the sound of a different drummer.”

Kevin was a father, a marine and a police officer. I met him when he was 12 years old. He was baptized when he was 11. Kevin loved to hear me preach, which is rare for a young person. He listened so hard I could almost feel it. It warms the heart of an old preacher to know that somebody thinks you have something worth listening to.

I don’t think Kevin would want this memorial service but if he has to have it, I think he would want me speaking. I don’t know if he will be listening this morning, but if he is, he will be listening intently.

I loved Kevin Morrison.