My old buddy Rosco died the other week aged only 55. We knew each other from college and were so close, until I got saved of course. However he was not ready to accept Christ into his life as the alcohol was much too important to him. The last time I seen the poor guy was at a bus stop. He looked awful. He was stood there as frail as a skeleton, trying to huff out alcohol out of a deodorant stick.

What makes me feel ashamed is that I ignored him! I should have went over to him and given him a proper old bear hug but at the time I just didn’t have the energy. Whenever I encounter drunk people I just get so angry and my bear hug probably would have turned into brutal retribution. None of it matters anymore, anyway now that he’s dead.

That doesn’t stop me missing the poor fellow.

rosco-homeless-drunk-god-bless-this-fucker

This is for you Rosco, rest in peace buddy x.