Learning from a funny man's sad death:

I've spent my life in what used to be called "fly over country."  The big power-brokers are on the East Coast and the trend setters on the West.  Reporters just fly back and forth over our heads looking for news from the edges of our continent.  To be honest, a lot of the news that comes from DC, NY, and L. A. just flies over our heads out here in the hinter-land.  Some Hollywood starlet was arrested for the twenty-fifth time for DUI--"Ho-hum."   A politician on the take?  "Aren't they all?" Sometimes, though, something cuts through the clutter & kicks me in the gut.  Robin Williams death was like that.  Maybe it is because he was about the same age as me.  He enjoyed biking, as do I.  When he was on, he was devastatingly funny.  I figure nobody can be that funny unless they are serious about it.  I like humor.  I appreciate its power. Bottom-line, the news of Williams's death made me think.   In spite of the vast differences between the movie star comic and the small town preacher, there was enough that Williams and I had in common that I found myself responding to the tragic news of his death with, "There but for the grace of God, go I." There is a Solomon-esque Ecclesiastes-like, very un-amusing  quality to the comics death. "WHY?" Solomon had his gardens, palaces, zoos, and harem.  Speaking about his cycling obsession, Bicycling Magazine said, Williams loves bikes. The actor doesn't own one of the best bikes you can get-he owns them all, packed into a San Francisco mega-garage. He can, and does, without hesitation, indulge one of the most intense cases of gear lust in two-wheeled history. If the urge to pedal a favorite back road in Montana hits, no problem: He loads his bike into a private jet and is there in a flash. And while a spin with Lance Armstrong may be just a sweat-soaked chamois dream for most cyclists, the comic counts the Texan as a riding buddy. When Williams attends the Tour, he's a turbo-VIP, following the action from a U.S. Postal support vehicle. You read this and probably ask, "What would I do with a warehouse full of bikes?"  I think I know.  You'd sell them--maybe I'd buy one--and then you'd buy a warehouse full of something that floats your boat.  There is no maybe to this.  I'm sure.  Whatever you or I would fill our store-house full with, would not, will not, can not satisfy.  By God's grace Solomon or Howard, nor you--since you are reading this--did not/have not come to the bitter end that was the last moment of Williams's life.  Let's use our reprieve to learn some very serious lessons from the very sad end of a very funny man's life.  We are are fallen people in a fallen world. The same brokenness that effects the rest of creation, impacts us to our core.  All of us are born with a birth-defect, sin  (seePsalm 51, esp. v.5).  We help those who struggle with congenital blindness, or weak hearts.  Let's help those who struggle with emotional disorders most of us don't understand. I don't care how much you have, when it comes to satisfying your soul it will never be enough.  Don't be like the rich fool, who tried to fill a spiritual hole with stuff.n this fallen world. We often envy the wrong people for the wrong reasons.  I remember reading the article I referenced above.  I had to deal covetousness.  Now, I look again.  I see nothing that makes me want to change places. We desperately need the Lord.  Only He can truly help.     “For what will it profit a man if he gains the whole world and forfeits his soul? Or what will a man give in exchange for his soul?” (Matthew 16:26, NASB95)     Indeed It's Something to Think About.