My wife and I tend to drive our vehicles until they barely stay together. That’s a bit of an exaggeration but not much. While our van is fairly new, our last car was a 1999. It had 220,000kms on it. A couple months ago I had to replace the ABS system which was an $800.00 touch. Then the head gasket went and the power steering pump was on it’s way out as well. Sooo, I traded the thing in and got a new vehicle. Anyhow, on the way home it dawned on me that given one’s life expectancy in North America and given the fact that I’ve been unwell for most of my life, and given a family history of heart disease, this could actually be the last car that I purchase.
I know, I know any one of us could breath our last at any moment, but seriously, I’m on the down hill side of life. At 57 years old, I’m just about out of here. Now to someone who is a lot younger, that might sound absurd, but at this age a week seems like two or three days. A month takes about a week and a half and a year flies by like it just started three or four months ago.
This is both good news and good news for me. I long for heaven. I can hardly wait to be welcomed home by Jesus, my Lord and my dear, dear Saviour. That of course is the good news. I'm a citizen of heaven. Heaven is my home and it's where I belong. On the other hand, the good news is that having just a couple decades left to live gives me a renewed desire to love those that I meet with an intensity that is God given. Knowing that my time is just about up jolts me to connect with others at a level that is deep and challenging. This type of connecting is a rush. It makes me breath deeply while colours become brilliant. I don’t want to miss a single chance to help other people. I don’t want to walk by one opportunity to make someone’s day just a little better. I want Jesus to see me coming and say, “Well done my good and faithful servant.” I want to hug my ki
Ah crap! I just forgot to take my son to his piano lesson. It’s the second time that I’ve blown a lesson this week. Ugh. This is so embarrassing.
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