Life is ultimately to be share

I get up with the sound of the pitter patter, newly-formed drops of water bleeding onto the window AC unit in my window. It's an unusually early morning for me, especially for a Sunday. But my schedule has been different lately. Work longer hours. Less sleep.

Saturday was my rest day. Didn't lift a finger to do much of anything. And it was everything I had hoped it could have been. Rest. It is impossible to underestimate its value to the body, to the mind, to the soul, and to the will within us to live.

What is the value of a human life? I sat in church today thinking on that very thing.

As I scattered out of my house this morning, I made sure to follow the trail I'd made for myself earlier on Saturday, to be sure not to step in any fresh snow. Because I wore leather shoes, I didn't want them to ruin. So I was careful with each movement. Patiently, careful. And I am beginning to see now, after thoughtfully processing the morning, that these steps I took early in the morning are the ones that I should take each day. With great care and consideration.

I am humbled by my own lack of concern for my own life and for those lives that hang in the balance around me.

And so as I sit back home, pondering what to fix for lunch and wanting to plan the rest of my afternoon, I look around me to the quiet surroundings that keep me tucked away from the wet and the cold. I am thankful. I am alive. And this is the moment I have been given. I don't know for certain that I will have another breathe. And I'm not promised any memory of that breathe after it leaves my body. That is the hard reality of breathing, of movement, of relationships, and of our finite presence on the Earth.

In deep sorrow and with much regret, I say my life's purpose has not always been driven by spiritual and relational pursuits. I have lived much of my life alone, sheltered from the love and affection from family, from friends, and ultimately from God. Love has not always been a kind affection and a shelter from life's storms. It has been an idea, a fantasy to cling to in the hope of it realizing itself in me someday...but not truly an experience of my early years.

I ran track in junior high school. Partly out of boredom and partly for a chance to meet pretty girls who were in shape and to fit in with the cool guys who got all the pretty girls who were in shape. And I quickly learned that even though I wasn't the fastest on the team by a long shot, I had a gift. Speed came naturally to me. Sprinting. Burning quick motions. I was great at anything under 400 meters and then my body would break down and the lactic acid would fill my thighs, forcing me to stop.

And now, more than 10 years later, that speed has left my legs, regretfully. But what I have lost in the immediate, I hope to have gained in the lasting...the stuff that you need to make it past the 400 meters. I can hope in that...and rest in the character of God to make something of my life that is capable of enduring through tough times.

Sometimes the one thing that drives the soul the most to endure is the brevity and the finality of the moment. I look back to the years leading up to my grandmother's death with satisfaction and fondness. For some reason, she let me into her fragile existence, while shunning others away, even those who had been and still remained dedicated to keeping her in her old years. And those moments alone with Granny, showed me a life full of wonder. But years later, as I sit and remember her struggle with dementia, and seeing her mind crumble to pieces like a thin cookie, I am reminded of the brevity of all human life, and the heavy purpose that is placed on the moment.

It is life, the ultimate and most fulfilling that the heart longs for, but often does not find. Love is painful. Losing someone of such value to you as gold leaves a brokenness that cuts to the bone. But in those moments when we are pressed against the wall, cut-off from the human hand and the ones we have loved so dearly, we are also presented with an option for a greater love and a greater companion, of which our souls and the bodies and minds that contain our form, can reach out with open hands to accept. And that love endures like springtime. And it never fails.

What is the brevity of all human life that we should cling to it for ultimate meaning? But when we find an eternal Father, capable of healing our most deepest wounds and sheltering and protecting us under his great wings, we are able, finally to face death, loss, and disaster. And we know, because of His great care and strong hand, that this is not the end. What I have now does not define who I am. Although outwardly, I am slowly fading from view, inwardly I am renewed by an eternal Love.

And someday, I will be able to sit with my Granny and tell her all about how those moments, alone with her, eventually led me to a greater understanding of life, and a willingness to not give up, but to treasure every moment as if it could be my last. And I know she will smile and look at me with loving eyes, knowing full well in her heart, that her time on earth was not in vain.

Go in peace, my dear friends.

Thanks to the human heart by which we live,
Thanks to its tenderness, its joys, and fears,
To me the meanest flower that blows can give
Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears. Wordsworth