Death

Buried Alive

Blog_StuffI don’t want to be buried alive. And I would guess if a survey were taken on the ways people least want to die, being buried alive would top the charts. Yet quietly, imperceptibly, it’s happening. Here. Now. In our own homes. Each day, we are suffocating unaware.

Who is the evil perpetrator seeking to steal our lives?

If a crime scene investigation series were devoted to finding the villain behind the madness, it would take the slyest of sleuths to crack the case—because the antagonist is among the least noticed and most unsuspected, and so much the object of our affections that we would never believe it a silent killer.

Are you in suspense wondering who the evil nemesis could be? Let me ease your curiosity. It’s…our stuff.

That’s right. Our stuff. Stop and think back to the moment you first noticed your lifeblood draining, your strength failing. It may have been in the midst of that endless succession of phone calls to customer service trying to resolve an issue with that “thing” once so needed. It may have been the last time you attempted to organize your basement or garage into some semblance of sanity. Or maybe it was when you walked by your teen’s bedroom and found them them swallowed alive by electronic gadgets as the slow-dawning realization came upon you…that a significant chunk of your labor was spent to pay for those gadgets now stealing your child away.

Yes, we need things for daily life, but when those things start to devour our life, it gets dangerous. Our precious time is spent working for, purchasing, cleaning, maintaining, refurbishing, storing, organizing, and getting rid of…things. We work extra hours, spend time away from family, all so we can have stuff we think we need, only to realize this stuff has robbed us of what we need even more.

I don’t want to come to the end of my life and regret that my time was spent on things that gather dust. I don’t want to waste my breath on things that rot, or my labor on that which can be burned in the fire. There is an allure to the temporary: it comes cloaked in light only to steal our lives. God, help us…that we do not fall victim.

“There’s far more here than meets the eye. The things we see now are here today, gone tomorrow. But the things we can’t see now will last forever.” 2 Corinthians 4:18 (MSG)

Source: Buried Alive

Photo Credit: All my worldly possessions… | Flickr – Photo Sharing!

But a Breath

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You have made my days a mere handbreadth; the span of my years is as nothing before you. Everyone is but a breath, even those who seem secure. Surely everyone goes around like a mere phantom; in vain they rush about, heaping up wealth without knowing whose it will finally be. But now, Lord, what do I look for? My hope is in you.” (Psalm 39:5-7)

 

Source: the Dash Between the Years

Photo Credit: File:Blowing in the Wind (4211447682).jpg – Wikimedia Commons

Things that Matter

 

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I don’t want to leave this world unnoticed. I don’t want to leave the world unaffected by my being here. But I know it’s not always the big things that matter. More often, it’s the little things that add up to the dash between the years.

 

Source: the Dash Between the Years

Photo Credit: File:Sunset at the sea in autumn with dried grass in front.jpg …

The Question That Remains

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Source: The Dash Between the Years

However Short

 

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However short or long my life may be, I want to do something meaningful. I want to live fully, to love deeply. I want to give my life for something that matters. Something that will outlast me. I can’t be satisfied to go through the motions one more day.

 

Source: The Dash Between the Years

Photo Credit: Free stock photo of sunset, fog, meadow

The Dash Between the Years

Blog_TombstonesI once saw a beautiful online photo tribute a man made for his wife. It was a series of black and white pictures chronicling their relationship, her battle with cancer, and her eventual death. In the first picture, they’re sitting side by side on the front stairs, soda bottles in hand, full of life. The final pictures are haunting. One looks through a car windshield on a rainy day to the hearse up ahead. The other is of a tombstone.

What haunted me most was the name on the tombstone. It’s mine. And the years on either side of the dash. She was young. Not much older than me.

We never really know how old we are. An eighteen year old might be older than an eighty year old, depending on how much time is gifted to them on this earth. My husband’s dear grandma lived to be 107 years old.  I met her when she was 84 and still going strong, dancing up a storm and smoking her cigarettes backward. (She since gave up smoking, proving it’s never too late to quit!). She was younger when I met her than some of my peers who’ve since moved on from this life.

The question that remains is this: what will I do with that small dash between the years? However short or long it may be, I want to do something meaningful. I want to live fully, to love deeply. I want to give my life for something that matters. Something that will outlast me. I can’t be satisfied to go through the motions one more day.

The woman in the pictures clearly lived a beautiful life, short as it was. She left behind people who love her and feel the pain of the gap she’s left behind. I don’t want to leave this world unnoticed. I don’t want to leave the world unaffected by my being here. But I know it’s not always the big things that matter. More often, it’s the little things that add up to the dash between the years.

“Lord, remind me how brief my time on earth will be. Remind me that my days are numbered—how fleeting my life is. You have made my life no longer than the width of my hand. My entire lifetime is just a moment to you; at best, each of us is but a breath. We are merely moving shadows, and all our busy rushing ends in nothing. We heap up wealth, not knowing who will spend it. And so, Lord, where do I put my hope? My only hope is in you.” (Psalm 39:4-7)

Things that Last

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There’s something inside me that longs for permanence in what I do. I want the things I invest my time and resources in to last—and not just for a day or two, or even a year. I want them to last beyond me.

 

Source: Didn’t I Just Do the Dishes?

Photo Credit: File:Jacobikerk Utrecht Clockwork 1.jpg – Wikimedia Commons