My life has seemed paradoxical these last couple of weeks. Celebrating the birthdays of children alongside the last days of dear loved ones. My sweet Uncle Tom passed this morning after a long, valorous fight with cancer. His pain is now gone, his body at rest, his soul at peace.
I will remember many things about him--his joking sense of humor, his devotion to his family, his passion for sports. He always engaged me with questions about me--he cared to ask. He embraced Patrick into our family wholeheartedly, paying both of us compliments we will always treasure. "You did good, Kristy. He's solid."
It's always difficult to contemplate the brevity of life. The limited opportunities. The wasting away. Sometimes I find myself aligned with Macbeth's eloquently spoken philosophy:
To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
To the last syllable of recorded time,
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more: it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
But then, I am thankful that my life DOES signify something. As a child of the Father, I am not living for the glories and manifestations that this earthly world can provide, for the mere "hour" of my one-act play. I am thankful for a Savior that has provided eternal life, eternal peace, eternal satisfaction in him. I am thankful to serve a patient, gracious God, and I praise/pray these words of truth to my Father:
8But do not forget this one thing, dear friends: With the Lord a day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years are like a day. 9The Lord is not slow in keeping his promise, as some understand slowness. He is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance. ~2 Peter 3: 8-9.
I know that he was patient with my Uncle Tom, and I pray for his continued patience with me.
I like to imagine the afterlife as something like this:
"I think of Heaven as a garden where I shall find again those who have made my world." ~Minnie Aumonier