Forever and a Day

“Teach us to number our days aright, that we may gain a heart of wisdom.” (Psalm 90:12)


The "Contemporary English Translation" from Biblegateway.com has this verse reading this way:

"Teach us to use wisely all the time that we have."

Thank God for translations, because now that I have that information, this verse makes sense to me. At first I was not sure what "numbering our days aright" meant! But now I think I get it. While yesterday I was to live as it was my first day, today I am to live as though it were my last. Boy! That was fast.

And that's the point. Live IS fast. And Short. David and I were just talking about how having kids is like putting the rest of your life on "fast forward" permanently. They are such a crazy gauge for how quickly time passes. And too often I live like I have all the time in the world - in so many aspects of my life I do this - I parent like I have tons of time to teach these impressionable people all about Jesus. I treat David as though he will always be there - not stopping to make sure he feels Loved and Cherished and Honored on this very day, in this very moment.

This summer I experienced an amazing event with my dad. I have promised some of you I would tell the story when the time seemed right. I think this is it. It is a story about numbering your days aright and gaining the wisdom to make sure you live with no regrets.

David, the kids and my dad and I went hiking - it was a short, but steep climb up to a great view (one of the best around, in my opinion) but we weren't really sure how the kids would do - it was by far the hardest climb we have tried them on. So we started off with the goal to have a great time seeing how far we could get, but being aware we might not get to that great view.

D & I have done this hike a number of times and have the "tradition" of stopping just over halfway up at this really cool gnarly tree - one that was uprooted ages ago and the root system is all twisted and exposed making peek-a-boo windows here and there amidst the deadwood. When we made it to this spot, our hopes soared as the kids were still raring to go and hadn't once asked to be carried yet - maybe we would make it to the top after all! After a rest and drink of water, the kids were ready to move ahead.

My dad had been sitting on a rock, a short distance from the gnarly tree and hadn't said much. I thought he was just taking in the glimpses of the mountain range peeking from behind the lush green leaves we were just about to break through on our climb. But when he didn't get up when the kids and we were packed and ready to go, something didn't seem right. Sure enough, he had taken a nitro pill because his heart had started to bother him. (This is the same man who has had 3 other "episodes" involving heart stents and such.) He assured us that once the tab had taken affect, he would be fine and we just needed to wait a minute or two. Time passed. The kids played. Dad took another tablet. More time passed. David and I began to worry. The kids begin wondering what was up - not wanting to alarm them, we decided to have lunch by the tree. Dad came over and joined us, but didn't eat much. He popped another nitro instead.

By now, I was definitely starting to freak out inside. We convinced Dad he should lay down, thereby taking some of the stress off his heart and hopefully giving the nitro a better chance at doing its thing.

In the most surreal moment of my life, I found myself leaning up against a rock, my children and husband next to me, my dad's head in my lap with my fingers haphazardly running through his silvery black hair. The sun was shining in God's rays through the breaks in the trees, dancing with the wind. In the distance, seeming to dart and dash about, lay the purple mountains, speckled with the orange, red, yellow, and browns of autumn. There was not a man-made sound to be heard. Whispers of trees and the faint gurgling of a brook was all there was.

A single thought raced through my brain. "This is it. God is going to take my dad to be with Him, now, on this mountainside, with his head in my lap. My daddy is going to die."

Instead of completely losing it though, Peace flooded my soul. The unmistakable, undeniable Peace that Surpasses Understanding. I looked around. "God," I said, "I think it's okay. It makes sense to me that you would have my dad meet you on a mountainside. Thank you for this man. Thank you for loving me so much as to give me a father who so beautifully reflects You." As the tears silently rolled down my cheeks, I paused. "What words should I say to this man who has been my everything - my protector, my provider, my knight, my friend...my daddy? If this is it, what do I need to make sure I say before he goes?"

And that is when I realized, everything I needed to say had been said - so many times. There was no doubt Dad knew how much I love him. Or how much he means to me. Or that I think he was the best possible human Daddy this world has ever known. There was no doubt Dad knew I look ever so forward to hearing him play music for the King of all Kings while I dance around His throne. No doubts. No regrets. Just Peace.

The Lord did not choose to take my dad that day. But if He had, I realized for the first time, I would have been okay. To live with numbered days in my relationships means to live making sure I say what needs to be said as often as I can - no one will ever tire of hearing, "I love you." To live with wisdom means to live knowing eternity is so much longer than today. My dad and I have all the time, not in the world, but out of it. Seemingly contradictory in nature, it was these principles I took home with me from that hike that day. Time here is short, don't waste it and don't take it for granted. Time in Heaven is Forever. Praise the Lord.