I did the memorial service of a friend in our church recently. He was seventy-three years old and died after a two month battle with cancer. He was a faithful servant in our church but my feelings towards him would often alternate between fear and frustration. He had a gruff demeanor that could be quite brusque and unapproachable. A couple weeks before he died, I visited him at a skilled nursing facility in Saratoga. I was late finding him and caught him during his physical therapy session. I walked in and he looked up at me. He didn't say "Hello" or "It's great to see Fred" or even crack a smile. Instead, he said sternly: "I'm not ready for you right now. You can come back later." In anticipation of this kind of response, I did some work on my laptop while I waited for him outside his room. My frustration with him concerned his lack of vulnerability. He wasn't open about his weaknesses, wasn't expressive with his emot...