THERE ARE NEVER ANY WORDS
I just got off the phone with my mom.
My cousin, a professor at Virginia Tech, is safe. Thank God. It was in his building, I am told, that a portion of the shooting took place.
This is the real irony ...
For no reason at all (or so I thought), this morning, I was driving to work and this thought passed through my head: "You never know when it could all end. You don't have a timeline ... it's not set in stone ... it can all wash away tomorrow. Live this moment like it is your last."
Seven and a half hours later, and I was reminded once again, this life I live is on loan ... Sobering ...
It makes me wonder about the stupid things I say on a daily basis that have no real significance to the life I am suppose to lead.
It makes me question whether I've told those I hold close that I love them more than they will ever know.
Have I laughed at myself today?
Have I laughed, period?
Do I appreciate the beauty in every day life?
Do I value the magic in the ordinary?
Did I take time to smell the roses?
Will I let the worry go?
Will I be willing to turn the other cheek?
Do I celebrate often?
There are never any words that take the sting from a gaping wound like the one that was violently ripped open today in Virginia. I'm not sure I would want to invent words for such a situation.
Many of you know that I consider myself a Christ-follower. I have a faith that is deep and a relationship with a God that is unimaginable. However, so often, at times like this, I want to question the God of my Universe ... I want to demand answers to questions I don't even know how to formulate ...
That isn't my job, though, no matter how many questions I'm left with and really no matter how much I feel I have a right to know.
This morning was a reminder ... a sweet whisper, really, that this life is fragile. The lives of those I love are fragile ...
My cousin, a professor at Virginia Tech, is safe. Thank God. It was in his building, I am told, that a portion of the shooting took place.
This is the real irony ...
For no reason at all (or so I thought), this morning, I was driving to work and this thought passed through my head: "You never know when it could all end. You don't have a timeline ... it's not set in stone ... it can all wash away tomorrow. Live this moment like it is your last."
Seven and a half hours later, and I was reminded once again, this life I live is on loan ... Sobering ...
It makes me wonder about the stupid things I say on a daily basis that have no real significance to the life I am suppose to lead.
It makes me question whether I've told those I hold close that I love them more than they will ever know.
Have I laughed at myself today?
Have I laughed, period?
Do I appreciate the beauty in every day life?
Do I value the magic in the ordinary?
Did I take time to smell the roses?
Will I let the worry go?
Will I be willing to turn the other cheek?
Do I celebrate often?
There are never any words that take the sting from a gaping wound like the one that was violently ripped open today in Virginia. I'm not sure I would want to invent words for such a situation.
Many of you know that I consider myself a Christ-follower. I have a faith that is deep and a relationship with a God that is unimaginable. However, so often, at times like this, I want to question the God of my Universe ... I want to demand answers to questions I don't even know how to formulate ...
That isn't my job, though, no matter how many questions I'm left with and really no matter how much I feel I have a right to know.
This morning was a reminder ... a sweet whisper, really, that this life is fragile. The lives of those I love are fragile ...
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