When I was a kid.
The hardest thing for me to wrap my mind around.
Was this thought.
What happens to me when I'm dead and gone?
Does the world keep going on?
How could it...........if I'm not here?
As a kid.
I hadn't seen much death.
My grandpa Wister was the first person close to me to die.
But, even then.
Things did seem to go on...... just like they always had.
After he was gone.
The sun came up every day.
I still went to school.
Christmases came and went.
Life went on.
And I began to understand a little.
Of this world.
And my place in it.
I don't think so much about that early question.
In the years that have passed in my life.
I've seen people live out their lives.
And pass away.
Some from old age.
Some from illness.
Some from tragic circumstances.
It's still interesting to me.
That for all of us to have that fate.
The very same outcome.
There's very little talking about it.
I do think about my time here, though.
Mostly, I think about how really quick it seems to go!
Oh my gosh!
Time for me is FLYING.
With no sign of slowing down.
And what I know is this.
I want to be about living.
Living out my purpose for being here.
And do the thing.
And live well.
Live on purpose.
I want to love well.
And be of some use to people.
And be of some use in this world.
Be of some use to Him.
"Lord, remind me of how brief my time on earth will be.
Remind me that my days are numbered -
how fleeting my life is.
You have made my life no longer than the width of my hand.
My entire lifetime is just a moment to you;
at best, each of us is but a breath.
For I am your guest -
a traveler passing through,
as my ancestors were before me."
Psalm 39: 4-5; 12.
A traveler doesn't stop and settle down.
We keep moving.
We keep traveling.
If I'm a guest.
This is not my permanent home.
I am just passing through.
Wanting very much.
To do it well.