I was just reading from a volume
written by an Australian social media friend. "Joyce" lost her husband a few
years ago, and understandably, it has taken some amount of time to begin to
transcend her loss.
And it occurred to me that one day,
someday, someone will also be
…thinking of me in the past tense.
While, as believers, we are on a train
leading to a known destination, we have never ridden this particular conveyance
before, and the depot to which we journey remains an unknown quality. Nebulous,
and apart from the assurance that the One who loved us and gave Himself for us
will be there to meet us, there is a certain anxiety for our never having
pulled into that singular station before.
We simply have no tape or scale by
which it might be measured, the Hereafter, since it has not been the practice
of those who have gone before us to return to this mortal coil; (although some
have claimed to have experienced momentary visitations).
After my father’s passing, my mother
awoke to discover her dear Henry; seating in the bedside rocking chair. He had
the brightest smile on his face, though he said nothing. Seconds later, he
disappeared. You can imagine what comfort my mother derived from the event. I
can relate since I have experienced several miracles during the course of my
two thirds of a century on this earth; including the momentary, visible
presence of what (or whom) I believe was an angel.
And yet, for all the comfort such
experiences provide us, and even for the assurances of scripture, we are left
with an opaque reflection of God and heaven.
“We see through a glass darkly… (but
then, face to face.)”
Pt. 2
Too many of my classmates “left us
before their time.” At least, this seems to be the standard phrase to describe
those who were denied a long and full life here.
I think of one young lady, in
particular, (though there were others who died in their teens, and more who
passed from this earth before reaching the nominal age of departure).
Beth was a dear Christian girl, a year
behind me, and in my choral group. She lost her life in a one car accident
during her second semester of high school. I have often reflected on the good
she might have done and the impact she might have had; were she to have been
granted the number of years which have, thus far, been granted to me.
Nevertheless, none of us can stay
here, and as I have often quipped to my clients and interns, “We will all get
our turn.”
(And indeed, we will).
I am SO absolutely sensitive to the
awareness that I will soon become someone else’s memory that I am, on a daily
basis, in the process of “leaving something behind.”
For you see, not a day goes by that I
fail to write 8 or 10 pages in a journal to which I have assigned a title which
includes the word, “diary;” (though, in fact, it is an exhaustive series of
blogs and stories). And I ‘save’ these writings to a couple of duplicate hard
drives, and file paper copies away in binders.
Following is a portion of the preface
I have included at the top of each of the sixty volumes of my ‘diary,’ (which I
have thus far written).
I stare into the eyes of that yellowing, fading portrait of
my great Grandparents now, and their dull, unblinking eyes reveal
… absolutely nothing.
And I have often mused, “Why didn’t you leave something
behind?”
Oh, how I would have enjoyed knowing you. How wonderful it
would have been if you had left some word, some reflection, something of
yourselves.
Well, my dear descendants, I have decided NOT to repeat their
mistake; (and yes, I consider it an irrevocable mistake; which once the party
has passed from this earth can never be corrected.) I think the following daily
journal entries, (as well as my previously written autobiography, counseling
memoirs, and other volumes) will not only elicit a few laughs, but provide you some
insight into the life of your ancestor; someone not unlike yourself, who lived,
and loved, and moved, and breathed, and made his way about this earth, and even
impacted a few for good, “before you were even a twinkle.”
You deserve it.
And this writer, who by the time you read these words may
have long since ceased to live, and love, and breathe, and move, and enjoy the
beauty which God has visited upon our planet, can only wish you well, and
exhort you to do as I am currently doing…
We are all too close to having eyes which do not see, ears
which do not hear, and mouths which do not speak.
While there is still time,
… Leave something of
yourself behind.
Pt. 3
There’s a commercial on TV which advertises “The American
Association of Retired Persons.” In it we see a rather attractive senior
citizen walking down a woodsy pathway.
And then her supposed voice muses,
“I’m sixty. I have a long life ahead of me. Places to go.
Things to do.”
And without fail I talk back to my television.
“No, you don’t! You don’t have a long life ahead of you.
Lady, look in the mirror. Smell the coffee. You just said you were sixty years
old! All things being equal, you’ll be dead in less than twenty years!”
And yet, people her age and my age have been given SUCH a
gift. The gift of time and impact. A gift that many younger than us were
denied. So like the lines from one of my favorite movies, in which the major
character expresses his gratitude to his employees and friends; at a birthday
party they have arranged for him.
“I’m going to break precedent, and tell you my ‘one candle
wish’…that you would have a life as lucky as mine, where you can wake up one
morning, and say, ‘I don’t want anything more.’”
(and)
“Sixty-five years. Don’t they go by in a blink?” (“Meet Joe Black”)
The longer I
live, the exceedingly more grateful I continue to be for having experienced
such a comparatively long and incomparably rich life on God’s good earth.
And on a
daily basis I pray that I may successfully fulfill the remainder of the destiny
which God dreamed for me before He spoke the worlds into place, and before
…I become
someone else’s memory.
by William McDonald, PhD. Excerpt from (Mc)Donald's Daily Diary. Vol. 60. Copyright pending
If you wish to copy, share or 'save' please include the credit line, above
by William McDonald, PhD. Excerpt from (Mc)Donald's Daily Diary. Vol. 60. Copyright pending
If you wish to copy, share or 'save' please include the credit line, above
No comments:
Post a Comment