Shall We?

This post might end up in the hands of some receptionist at a mental hospital because I'm sure it could come across as the thoughts of a suicidal person.

But consider them the thoughts of a woman who knows that her days are numbered.

Not really. There isn't like a diagnosis telling me this. Matter of a fact I received an oft-coveted clean bill of health last week. Sure, I get a little dizzy after a lot of physical exertion. The doc called it "common faint." I'm sure what she was trying to say, in nice words of course, was that I was just out of shape. Still, I recognize the gift that is being able to just jump on a treadmill and go as fast as it takes to get dizzy. So it appears that I really do have a long life ahead of me.

At the same time I am keenly aware that it is just an appearance.

Call the authorities because I'm having thoughts about death. And the fact that I could easily die in an accident on the way to church in the morning. If not me, then someone I love, which would shatter my life as I know it. I know, I know. Morbid. Which is why these thoughts do not control my life and they are not constant. But sometimes I appreciate a healthy dose of reality: this life is fleeting.

"Come now, you who say, "Today or tomorrow we will go to such and such a city, and spend a year there and engage in business and make a profit." Yet you do not know what your life will be like tomorrow. You are just a vapor that appears for a little while and then vanishes away." -James 4:13-14

So I might have misjudged my authority when I told you where I'd be on February 12. If I'm gone by then, promise me you'll watch it? Eh, what am I saying? I'll have you addicted for yourself by then. ;)

Where is all of this coming from, you ask? First of all, baby Isaac from this post had a skull fracture for the past couple of weeks. Most likely from knocking himself upside the head at the pool or with a toy. All it took for this situation to turn horribly wrong was a little swelling and too much fluid build up. Fragile. Then, baby Stellan went back to the hospital for a heart rate in the 250's (for perspective, at my cardio stress test at the hospital last week, the goal was to get me on the bike to raise my heart rate to a maximum of 200 bpm-- where my adult heart is at full capacity). Finally, my dad left for a business trip like he does every now and then on Thursday night and it made me think about how easily something could go wrong on that flight. Again, not overwhelming thoughts. But you know how they say that so often you don't see death coming? For some odd reason, I do.

I find that I ask myself often what I would do without dad. Or if mom is running late I think, for a millisecond, about what would happen if she never came back through the door. When I leave the house and yell "I love y'all" behind me, it crosses my mind that I may have just had my last conversation with one of those family members. And would I be satisfied with it?

Probably not. I don't know that in hindsight there could be enough words to convey exactly what you would want a loved one to know one last time. I love you is a start, I guess. So these split second ideas are around me often. They don't terrorize me, they humble me. Because I ask myself, if something did happen, would I be able to handle it?

Probably not. I don't know that in foresight there could be an understanding of not having someone around. And I don't crave to know it. But when that day inevitable comes, could I respond like Job?

"His wife said to him, "Are you still holding on to your integrity? Curse God and die!" He replied, "You are talking like a foolish woman. Shall we accept good from God, and not trouble?" In all this, Job did not sin in what he said."

What I'm getting at is that there is so much good around me. So I take the small and inadequate chances to prepare myself for trouble. Shall I accept one from God and not the other?