My Days Are Numbered

Last night, at Queen Sirikit’s Botanical garden in Chiang Mai, a candlelight vigil was held for the late King Bhumibol Adulyadej. Out of respect for the Thai people, we attended. It’s not often one has a firsthand experience mourning the loss of a beloved leader. The experience itself was quite lovely with around 35,000 people in attendance. Songs were sung and speeches were made for the beloved king, and then 35,000 candles were lit in his memory. The sight of so many candles against the foggy nighttime sky was beautiful. He is not my king, but in that moment, I too felt the loss and heartache of the country.

The one thing no person can beat is death. At some point, we reach the total number of days we were given on earth. From the moment we’re born, we’re on our way to our graves. I’m not trying to be dark and grim; it’s just the reality of life. My days are numbered.

It’s not that I’m thinking about when I die, however, that thought is somewhere in the backburner of my mind (but not in a Lydia Deetz kind of way), it’s what I am doing with my life before my time is up that has been consuming my thoughts and decisions. At some point, I will be standing in front of Jesus, giving an account for the use of my time and I want to be able to say, “I used everything, every talent, every skill, and every opportunity you gave me. There’s nothing left.”

At least, that’s what my heart desires.

I used to baffle at Christian songs that sang about the Lord leading the way, lighting the path, and it giving guidance. Maybe in biblical times, when he was a pillar of fire and smoke, but with no real relationship and living in the 21^st century, I couldn’t understand how God could lead the way now. Do I just open up the bible like a magic 8 ball and hope the answer I want appears on the page? Are clues left, like omens, around for me to decipher? Do I hear a booming voice telling me where to go? I’d be lying if I didn’t try or expect any of those things to happen (and they didn’t). I didn’t understand that a relationship with him is the first step into him leading me and through my relationship he guides me to opportunities and decisions that honor him. There still aren’t bible pages opened to answers, or clues left around, or booming voices, but there is the gentle whisper that leads to peace or conviction. There are gentle nudge to yes or no. There are times of silence and no answers and I can’t boast that every prayer or request was answered or met. I am still waiting for answers to prayers prayed years ago.

There’s a healthy fear of wanting to get “it” right, of wanting to make the right decisions; what to major in in college, where to work, who to marry, how to raise the kids, how to spend your time wisely, and so on. But if you’re not living your life for Christ, none of that matters.

I want to know that every decision I make was guided by the Lord. I want to know that every opportunity that knocked on my door was answered with a servant’s heart. I want to know that when the Lord called me higher and deeper, I let him lead me.

I want Jesus to look at me and say, “You did well, my good and faithful servant.” These are my thoughts when I think about how much time is left for me. 

What do you think about?