A date etched in stone

(I wrote this yesterday)

A year ago today, my father-in-law slipped into eternity. Almost a year later, the tombstone came in that now have the dates of his entire life etched in stone. The day he was born and the day he died. Dates already determined before the foundation of the world. None of us knows how long we have. 

Days like today make you think and ponder about life in general. You only get one life, and you have no idea how quickly it might be taken away. How are you spending your days, your time, your influence? Are you in a season of survival, of goal-setting/achieving, of experiencing your dreams, of pleasure-seeking, or of service and generosity to others? Do you think about how you will be remembered, if you left a legacy, or made a difference? Are you striving for things that really matter and will have an eternal impact? Or are we so focused on self and comfort that we missed our opportunities. 

I have several close friends deeply missing someone they loved this Christmas. A friend mourning the loss of both her husband and son within a year of each other. A friend grieving the loss of her best friend just a few years after the loss of her husband. A friend still processing the recent loss of her husband to cancer while now fighting for her own life against a different type of cancer. A friend tearfully celebrated what would have been her 38th anniversary to the love of her love and now faces her first Christmas without him. Another friend just lost her dad, another her mom. 

Then there are those of who moved away from close family and friends and feel a huge absence, like the way I struggle being so very far away from my son for his tenth Christmas as part of our family. And then others are watching a loved one hang on for life, like my friend is so unexpectedly experiencing with her son.

Days like today make me thankful for the chance to spend Christmas with David here, broken arms and all. It's been complicated, having to fly back to Texas to help him, stay as a guest in someone's house to be able to care for him, fly back to Indiana to aide him in daily living for two months, take him out of school, switch doctors temporarily, play the guessing game as to whether he'll be physically ready to care for himself again by the time school starts again, switch him back to doctors there, etc. But he's here, alive, and with injuries that will heal. We're together. 

We think so often about the people that have to readjust their bearings and find a way to move on without the one they loved. But days like today make you stop and ponder about the life of the ones who are no longer here. Their end date came, and then they were gone. Their time to influence others, to encourage others, and to make an eternal impact ran out. Friends and family mourned their loss, reflected on their impact, and carry their memories, but then they all had to readjust life and move on without them. 

Had they known, would they have lived any differently? Encouraged others more with their words? Made sure their time had purpose and that they established a legacy that would live beyond their time? This may sound morbid, but often when I hear of someone passing, I glance back at their last social media post and wonder--if they knew that was their last post, their last words to the world, their last chance to influence or encourage someone, is that what they would have chosen to say?

Days like today make you think a little differently. Make you realize the importance of being intentional with every opportunity that comes your way. Maybe because I'm just finishing up reading the New Testament and seeing how intentional Paul was with every word he wrote, especially when his life was threatened. Or maybe because I've got so many hurting friends right now. Or maybe because life looks and feels so different back here in Indiana without Mike's dad.