Sometime in the future I am going to look back on this website and all my blogs and remember how much I have enjoyed returning to a more academic style of writing. As I read through the writings in Part 5 of Light From Many Lamps I was inspired to work harder, be more disciplined, be the master of my own destiny. My initial plan was to focus on one of these readings – and then I got to Part 6. And I realized after reading the Phillips Brooks excerpt that I needed to switch to a more personal style this time. Ironically, the unit notes also speak of the value of story-telling, so this is a story.
Time is short. This reality has never been more evident to me than it is right now. Tears well up in my eyes very easily. To be honest, the excerpt from Brooks sermon convicted me; the poem at the end by Charles Hanson Towne wrecked me.
Let me explain. I wrote in an earlier blog that I am keenly aware of the value of work in a man’s life because I have known two men who were addiction free for years who ended up returning to their drug and alcohol addiction after an injury put them off work. One of those is my brother. He is currently alive and well and addiction free. The other was a former youth pastor, and my daughters’ landlord. Jason has died. He was 31 years old.
We didn’t have a close relationship. And I can’t and won’t go into all the details because this is a public blog, and his close loved ones deserve discretion. The memorial was an amazing testimony of the years that he was drug free and the huge impact that he had on so many people during that time. But the pastor summed it up best when he said at the funeral: “This room is full of people who feel they could have, should have, done more….” And that is the stark reality. My reality.
I meant to leave a thank you card for this couple many, many times. I meant to stop in and thank him personally for blessing my daughters, above and beyond all expectations. I meant to find out what they enjoyed to do as a couple so I could bless them in return. I meant to tell him that I missed him at last years youth conference, having no idea that I would miss him again this year, but for a much more permanent and heart wrenching reason. So many “I meant to’s”; so many “I wish I would have’s”. So many missed opportunities.
I have lost people in my life but no prior loss has left me quite so raw, or so keenly aware that none of us is promised tomorrow. In my leadership roles I have never been so committed to seek out the and eliminate the missed opportunities. To use my time to encourage, to inspire, to affirm, to heal and mend and restore relationships, to forgive, to accept forgiveness. Time is short.
I am writing this somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean on my way to Kenya trying to weep discretely so as to not make those around me on the plane uncomfortable. One of my fellow students asked me after my last Light From Many Lamps blog if one could find meaning and purpose outside of their job and this is one of the many examples in my life where I would answer with a resounding “yes”. The community based organization that I am a board member of, both in Canada and Kenya, focuses on providing an education and life skills to young adults who would have no future and no hope otherwise. Blessing them, so they in turn can be a blessing. Encouraging them in their walk of faith, so they can live to the high standards they have been called to. Helping them to see the meaning, the purpose, the value in their lives. Training them so they can lead others. Just like Jason did with multiple people each and every day he was in youth ministry.
I don’t intend to miss any opportunity.
Reference
Watson, L.E. (1951). Light from Many Lamps. New York, NY: Simon and Schuster, Inc.