I keep waiting for the punchline. I keep waiting for the news about Matthew Perry to be some kind of weird and demented hoax so he can still be alive and so that addiction won’t have claimed yet another life way before its time.

I’m sadder than I thought I would be, not because I knew Matthew or knew much about him. I knew that he struggled with addiction for most of his life. I knew that because he was a celebrity that his struggles were more in the open and public than most addicts.

I think part of the sadness is that it brings back memories about finding about my uncle’s death after he had struggled with his own demons of addiction. It makes me think of my 20-year old cousin who passed away from addiction.

It makes me long for a day where there will be no more drugs, no more addictions, no more overdoses, and no more funerals for people who died way too young. I know that Jesus promised that such a day is coming, so I hold on to that hope.

I read somewhere that Matthew Perry prayed to God for help at some point. I don’t know for certain, but I’m hoping that maybe he found Jesus at some point. Or maybe Jesus found him. At this point, I can only speculate and hope.

I’m not saying that everyone who follows Jesus magically has every struggle and addiction taken away. Some will still struggle. Some will still lose their battles to addictions. This is still a fallen and broken world after all. But Jesus is waiting at the end of their road.

Richard Moll played one of my favorite characters from the 80s. He was Bull from the sitcom Night Court. He was such a big lovable doofus. Again, I have no idea what he was like in real life, but his passing is like the closing of yet another chapter in my childhood and one more door I can never go back through.

Death is an all too real reminder that this world isn’t what God created it to be in the beginning. It’s a reminder that sin entered the world and marred God’s beautiful creation. But then Jesus showed up.

Because of that fateful Good Friday, death is no longer the end. The grave is no longer final. For those who have hoped in Jesus, death is not the period at the end of their sentence, but a comma signifying more and better to come. The grave is only temporary, and just as it could not hold Jesus, neither will it hold those who have hoped and trusted in Him.

So I’m sad, but I’m hopeful. I grieve, but not as those who have no hope. Because Jesus showed up.