THIS Day Is Special

Becky and I attended a memorial service last week.

I didn’t know the man well. The service touched me more deeply than I expected. I left with two lasting impressions.

I felt like I knew him better. His friends and family shared memories in an incredibly personal, vulnerable, and yet perfectly authentic and appropriate manner. Tears mixed with laughter, celebration stood with grief.

The entire service just felt remarkably transparent, as though the entire purpose was to highlight this man’s life and his faith in Jesus.

THIS day is special. The circumstances of this death were, if it’s possible, beyond the boundaries of senseless. Every presentation, every personal conversation, contained either a spoken or unspoken whisper.

Life is short.

Tomorrow isn’t promised.

The only day, the only moment you get is this one. They’re cliches, but they’re also truths. And I left that service knowing that I live far too much for the future…and the past.

It’s good to plan, train, and dream. I’m in favor of building stuff and leaving a legacy. I’m all about following God-sized dreams.

I’m talking about the “I’ll do it tomorrow” stuff, the “wait until next year” things that so often never happen. The vacation that’s postponed, the day off that gets skipped, the I love you that doesn’t get said.

The anger that eats up an hour. Or a lifetime.

None of this is news to you or me. I needed the sad reminder of a man I barely knew, a man who went for a Saturday morning bike ride and didn’t come home, that THIS day is special because it’s the only one I have to work with. Fear, worry, anger, and regret rob me of this moment God gave me.

I’ve been thinking a lot about this, and I wonder if the solution is as simple and as difficult as HOPE. When we choose Hope, a confident expectation that God keeps His promises, we can plan for the future while living fully in the present without fear, worry, anger, or regret.

Perhaps it’s true. Perhaps hope really does change what’s possible.