Death has a brutal finality that we don't fully grasp until it's too late. The conversation just... stops.
I think about a young-adult pastor and political activist who had significant influence over young people. His theology and approach troubled me deeply. His messages often struck me as negative and divisive, completely at odds with what I believe faith should represent. While he lived, I had opportunities I never took: I could have reached out, could have said, "Hey, maybe kindness and tone of voice matter more than you think."
Now I can't. That opportunity is gone forever.
This isn't about agreeing with someone's ideology—it's about recognizing that death removes all possibility for growth, change, or understanding. The dead can't learn. They can't apologize. They can't become better versions of themselves.
The living can.
Who in your life do you disagree with but haven't engaged meaningfully? What conversations are you putting off? The uncomfortable truth is this: one day, those conversations may no longer be possible.
The dead can't change. The living can. What are you waiting for?