I remember speaking with my friend Laura a few days before she died. We met in the hall outside the computer lab. I was going out, she was going in and paused to ask me when the next Illustrator assignment was due in our graphic arts class. She had been struggling to use the program and I had helped her in lab just a few days before.
"Thanks, Mia. See you Friday."
Laura never made it to Friday. In fact, no professor held class for days following the Taylor van accident on I-69.
Sometimes I wonder what Laura and I would have said to one another had we known what was coming. But man knows not his time.
It's just my observation, but generally speaking, everyone tends to live as if they will go on forever. Our culture is centered on self and devoid of delayed gratification, obsessed only with what they desire in the moment.
Take these marketing slogans for example:
White Castle: "White Castle. What you crave."
But even if by a miracle one happens to escape the ensnaring "me-culture," it's easy to lose focus. Often I'll find myself engrossed in the minutia of life and allow whole weeks will slip by. Things I consider "extremely important" somehow get pushed further and further out.
Suddenly I "wake up" and think, "When was the last time I stopped to give my husband a hug and tell him how much I appreciate him? When was the last time I called my family to say hello? How much quality time have I spent with my friends lately?" Or, most importantly, "How much time did I spend with God this week? How have I served him today and how have I been growing in my faith?"
It's easy to surrender to the temptation of the moment and leave difficult things - usually the most important - for another day. But what if tomorrow doesn't come? Not everyone will be granted the privilege of another day.
If I died today and stood before Jesus Christ, what would he say about my life? Would he greet me on the golden streets and say, "Well done, my good and faithful servant!"
When I lay on my deathbed, Lord willing, many years from now, I doubt I'm going to be thinking about the laundry I never folded, the food I didn't consume, or the clothes I didn't buy. All of those things are like grass: temporary, fading and easily forgotten. My life is going to boil down to three things: Who I love, who loves me, and what I did for God.