There’s something about death that awakens us to life. A friend from high school and college passed away quite suddenly last night, and his death created a sense of urgency in me this morning. I wanted today—and all my todays forever after—to be saturated with life.

I have long abhorred the thought of being around those whose primary focus consists of living in the past—”the good ol’ days,” as it were. Oh yes, I thoroughly enjoy revisiting memories, but for me those visits are temporary and merely serve as a springboard of lessons, failures, and successes that propel me into the moment that exists now—today. I want to be open to their teachings, but I do not want to try to rewrite their final exams. I’m grateful for yesterday, but I don’t dwell there. I learn from the joys and the sorrows that it provided for me, and I live intentionally (deliberately) and with great hope in the moments that are called today.

My friend’s death last evening stirred many memories of his kindness, incredible talents, God-focused desires, and compassionate character. But try as I might, those memories cannot bring him (or any deceased individual) back from the joys of heaven, where he is undoubtedly already lifting his voice in worship to His sovereign God. So to try to rewrite “the good ol’ days” would be senseless.

But to learn from his life—to embrace its impact on my own life for those few short years—is to take a step forward: to say, “How can my today be different because of his yesterdays?”

And then the answer comes to me.

My life is a mere vapor: it appears for a moment and then literally vanishes away. The only certainty I have is this moment. Therefore, every moment—moment by moment—must be lived in a way that properly affects not only my todays but the todays of those whose lives mine touches.

No more “someday, I’ll…” or “once I retire, I’ll…” but instead, I must join the songwriter who so aptly wrote of consecration in terms that “bottom line it”:

“Take my moments and my days; let them flow in ceaseless praise.”

Ceaseless starts now.

So this moment has to matter.

_____

Tonight’s post is dedicated to the memory of Don Phelps and to the family and friends he left behind.