I got a phone call last week. It’s one you never want to get. Even harder for the person on the end of the line to give.
A colleague I’ve had the pleasure of working with for the last few years was diagnosed with a very late, end stage cancer.
He doesn’t have much time to live. I was on his list of people for his caregiver to call and invite me to be part of the updates that will be sent out as they come in.
My heart squeezed. The breath shallow in my lungs.
I wanted to reach through the phone and wrap my arms around the woman who is caring for a man she once loved and had a family with and now is giving up the totality of her time and energy to care for.
What do you do when you get those calls?
I often joke (yet not really) that if I get a phone call from my mom first thing in the early morning it’s never good news.
I’ve gotten too many of these kind of calls. I know you probably have received more. Each one is painful and heartwrenching, yanking you back into the reality that life is all too short. And it can swiftly come to an abrupt and unexpected end.
My heart has really paused this week as I think and pray for this dying man. This man I have respected and greatly enjoyed working with. And it’s brought a point sharply into focus: what are we doing with our daily living?
What are we doing with our day to day. What are we living for? What are we occupying our time with? What is driving our motivation? What consumes us?
A conversation I had with my husband this past weekend walked this similar line: are we chasing an effusive “American Dream”? Are we doing the safe and expected thing because it’s what the world tells us what we should be doing? Are we doing the safe and expected thing because it’s what the world tells us what we should be doing?
We don’t have to be told that life is fragile. That we aren’t as invincible as we think that we are. Life is a flickering candle that can be snuffed out so very quickly. It only takes one doctor’s devastating diagnoses. Or someone running a single red light. Or the technology we place our lives into completely fails us. Or any other thousands of scenarios.
We can’t live life in fear. We have to live life. And live it it to the fullest.
But that’s the question I am wrestling with: what does that look like?
What does God want my full life to look like?
Do I want to get to the abrupt end of my life (should God give me the gift of a rear view glance while simultaneously seeing the end of my days) and wish I hadn’t spent it chasing things that really didn’t hold the right kind of value?
I don’t have a good answer to this question right now.
My heart is gutted. Knowing that my friend won’t get to see his daughters marry. Buy a house. Build a family. Chase their dreams. Do their next thing.
God show me the impact of a full life for Your kingdom.
Man, it’s my heart cry right now. Because I don’t want to be caught up in everything this world says I should be caught up in. Career. Big house. Money. Things. Latest and greatest toys.
I want none of it. Take it all. Because at the end of my time, I can’t take it with me. And none of it will matter when stacked up against what I should or shouldn’t have been doing.
My friend isn’t taking anything with him. He’s leaving plenty behind him.
Nothing in this life and world is guaranteed except one thing: it will end.
When mine ends, I pray I haven’t wasted it.
One thing I know for sure: we don’t ever go wrong by loving deeply. Giving generously. Daily living with an eternal perspective. We don’t ever go wrong by loving deeply. Giving generously. Daily living with an eternal perspective.
These calls are hard. This lose is harder. But I’m grateful for it, because without it, I’m more and more immune to how truly short this breath of life is.
And I want to breathe deeply.
