Time is running out
Time is running out. I woke up with these words heavy upon my heart. I hate to feel them, see them and know them, and yet they are etched into life everywhere I look.
Driving through my old neighborhood, the place I grew up, I instantly see the transformation. The houses and yards once appearing big now look small, worn out, and in need of repair. On observing these changes I feel a sadness inside that is hard to explain.
When stores close up and boards are nailed across the windows of what used to be a lively thoroughfare I feel the wish. This wish is for restoration.
When I look in the mirror and see more lines looking back at me. When I think of the babies I once held in my arms are now almost grown. When I realize that technology is advancing at the speed of light and I can’t keep up. When I read the toll of the worldwide pandemic, this virus I mistakenly thought was an over blown cold. As the numbers of people I have known fall in its wake, I feel it. This reminder that time is not my slave nor is it my friend.
I have procrastinated on many deadlines in my life. It is lie that I have tomorrow to do what today asks of me. Noone knows how long of a dash they will get to live, but as the sun rises in the morning the new day beacons us to hope in it, lean upon it.
We are all in a life and death situation. Everyday we wake up we have no idea what the day holds. And yet we have faith that nothing out of the ordinary will happen. This is faith because none of us can really know.
Funerals are a special reminder that life is short. I am getting ready for one today. I have the eulogy written, I have a verse to share, I will say a prayer and sing a song, but ultimately the lifeless body of a friend, a family member speaks a better word than I could.
His time ran out, and on a sheet a paper I will try to sum up who he was and what he did. I didn’t have time to type it, so in my hand written words he will stand tall one more time.
What are you doing with your life? How am I living mine? Time is running out. As eerie as that sounds the ancient King Solomon penned these words.
“A good name is better than fine perfume, and the day of death better than the day of birth. It is better to go to a house of mourning than to go to a house of feasting, for death is the destiny of every man; the living should take this to heart.” Ecclesiastes 7:2
It seems morbid to look at a funeral as a good thing. But I can’t think of a more powerful wake-up call to challenge me to make the most of my life. It is the reminder that I am limited and as the dust in the hour glass accumulates below I want my life to reach out and make a lasting impression on those around me. It is not just a hope, but a prayer to God.
Dear Lord, I want my life to matter for hope, healing and eternity. Help me to be actively present with those around me today. Help me to make the most of every situation.
Amen