Count the Days


I count a lot of days.  How many until the weekend?  How many until Jeff comes to live with us?  (40!)  How many until summer?  How many… get the drift.

But what about the final count…do you count the days until your death? Creepy, huh.

I suppose it is.  But today could be my last day.  Every single one could be.  I could die for any number of reasons.  I don’t know, maybe it has been my struggles with depression and considering suicide that I have thought about this a lot.  But I am okay with going.  If today is the day Jesus comes for me, then I am ready for Him.  My heart is ready.  I have tried to spread His word.  I have shared Him with my kids.  That’s what’s important.  I don’t care about stuff I leave behind.  It’s stuff.  I don’t care if I didn’t experience something here on earth…I truly believe it will be better in heaven with Jesus.  That I will be so overwhelmed with the sight of HIM and the enormity of His love that such joy will overcome me that I won’t even be able to think about anything else.  I will be so excited to join the throng of angels worshiping Him, that it won’t matter what happened on earth, what heaven looks like, who is there.  None of it will matter.  ONLY HIM.

That belief fills my heart and shapes my days.  Do I want to make the most of each day here with my loved ones?  Do I want to enjoy God’s creation?  Yep.  I sure do.

But I think the wise heart God wants isn’t a wisdom of this world–but a wisdom about Him.   A wisdom of gratitude for what we do have through Him.  Hope, love, and joy.  Things that cannot be counted.

What are your thoughts?

Go, Tell, and make disciples of all nations--spread the good news.
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