The fragility of life

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Sometimes I forget just how fragile life is. Over the years I have known people who are here one day — strong, vital, and healthy — and the next day they are gone.

It may have been an accident that claimed their lives or it may have been the sudden onslaught of an illness or something physical, such as a raging fever, a stroke, or a heart attack. Such an event leaves friends and family reeling, disoriented, and grieving.

Some years ago, someone coined the phrase, “Today is the first day of the rest of your life.” The Bible, in Psalm 90:12 records a prayer to God that says, “Teach us to number our days.” Both statements are reminders that life is precious, fleeting, and unpredictable. Both encourage us to recognize the fragility of life and treat each day as a gift.

As a pastor, I learned early on that a phone call in the middle of the night is usually not good news. Often, it signaled an accident, a serious hospitalization, or a death.

For over 25 years, I served as a volunteer law enforcement chaplain. One of my more difficult duties was to deliver death notifications to unsuspecting family members. One man went out to play a round of golf and never made it off the course. One husband and father was visiting a friend on Christmas Eve and was on the way home when he pulled out in front of a car. One teenager was rushing home to beat a curfew when she lost control of the car. Life is fragile.

Not long ago, I stood outside a room in ICU as a dedicated medical team worked on a person whose condition suddenly went bad. As I watched their frantic but futile efforts, I mentally prepared myself to meet the family members who were about to receive devastating news. It’s hard to say how many times I have been a part of tragedy over the 40-plus years I have worked with people. Dozens? Scores? Hundreds? Certainly too many to count.

We are fortunate to live in an age and in a society where death is pushed back — kept at bay — more than at any other time and place. Unlike previous generations, we are surprised when death comes to our doorstep. Our infant mortality rates are low and we are living longer than at any other time in history.

In the world of Julius Caesar, life expectancy was in the 30s. In Jesus’ day, it was 40. But however long it takes, life eventually runs out. Some are here for hours or days. Others are around for many decades. But whenever life ends, those who survive are seldom ready for it. One terminally ill man said to me, “I thought I had more time.”

So, Lord, “Teach us to number our days.” Teach us to love and laugh, to hug and embrace, to watch the sun rise and set. Teach us to enjoy our children, our parents, our spouses, our friends. Teach us to love life, to be kind to others, to do good things, and to be good people.

Teach us to remember that this day may be the only one we have left and to spend it wisely. Teach us to take deep breaths, to see the stars at night, to hear a baby’s laugh, and to enjoy the company of those we love.

Teach us that, while life may be fragile, it is not meaningless. Teach us to number our days and live each day to the full. Teach us to embrace this gift called life.

[David Epps is the pastor of the Cathedral of Christ the King, Sharpsburg, GA (www.ctkcec.org). He is the bishop of the Mid-South Diocese which consists of Georgia and Tennessee (www.midsouthdiocese.org) and the Associate Endorser for the Department of the Armed Forces, U. S. Military Chaplains, ICCEC. He may contacted at frepps@ctkcec.org.]