photo by Matthew Yohe

I was jokingly asked yesterday if I was in mourning. Mourning over Steve Jobs. Actually, I’m surprised to find that I’m not particularly sad.

I’ve never hidden the fact that I’m a Mac fan. I’ve used Macintosh computers since 1988 and have never really had much interest in using any other kind. I’ve also had an iPod Touch, and now I have an iPhone.

I respected Job’s genius. He was very good at what he did… and he did a lot of things. I also know, from all accounts that I’ve read, that he wasn’t a particularly nice person. And I know that he had moved away from his Christian faith; hopefully he embraced it again before leaving this world.

I don’t know much about his family. He was a private man. I don’t know who was directly touched by his passing. Maybe that’s why I don’t feel the pain.

My dad died in May. Good friends like Beverly Rama and Joey Tamez have passed away recently. When you’ve recently grieved over people that you knew and loved, it’s hard to get worked up over a public figure.

I hate death. I consider it an enemy, one that will eventually be conquered completely. I hate what it does to those left behind. I feel for those that are hurting over the death of Steve Jobs. It’s too late to pray for Steve, but I’ll offer a prayer on their behalf.

This sounds a bit cold and callous. I certainly don’t mean it that way. I’ve felt sorry for Steve Jobs for a long time, as I do for many famous people. They’ve gotten so much of what the world is after, and I know for a fact it’s not enough. Steve was rich, powerful and successful. And I wouldn’t trade my life for what his was.

Let’s comfort the mourning. And minister to the living. That’s what I intend to do.