October 30, 2021
I am sitting here writing this article looking into the eyes of my first grandchild.
It’s easy when you’re just out of high school or college, entering the real world, and finding your place in it to feel a bit invincible. Unless you suffer a major health crisis or endure another life-altering hardship of some kind, it’s easy when you’re young to forget that this life doesn’t last forever. Getting older and old is on the way! Even if you have an unshakeable hope in eternal life it is easy to forget ephemerality of our present one. Live long enough and you will discover life is brief.
Frankly, I’m 51-years-old, and I don’t feel so invincible anymore. I am more protective of my time and more selective where I invest my time. Someone mentioned that time is the new precious commodity. I wholeheartedly agree.
The old adage “if it’s worth it, you make time for it.” That’s definitely true.
Is it worth the time to make sustainable laws to make sure all races of people have protected voting rights?
Is it worth the time to pass the George Floyd Justice in Policing Act to curb police misconduct in mostly impoverished communities?
Is it worth the time to make sure all people, regardless of religious persuasion or sexual inclination, are treated with respect and gracious human dignity?
Is it worth the time to make sure your city is a safer city in every district and red lined area?
I don’t have time to argue, contend, squabble, and bicker with people I went to school with and learned about God with—what’s right and wrong with America. I know you see it but since you are not affected by it—you don’t make time for it. Now that we hold these same positions of power that we felt others wasted—what will we do with our time?
It was the Steve Miller Band (1976) who helped us understand the brevity of time —
Time keeps on slippin’, slippin’, slippin’
Into the future
Feed the babies
Who don’t have enough to eat
Shoe the children
With no shoes on their feet
House the people
Livin’ in the street
Oh, oh, there’s a solution
Oh Lord, through the revolution
For the record, I feel more physically, emotionally, spiritually, and mentally healthy today than I have in the last 10 years.
I passed my annual physical weeks ago with no real issues to report. I go to the gym and work out three days a week. I’m spending time in Scripture and prayer at least five days a week. My current job as a lead pastor and community/global leader is less stressful than most. How? I guard my time. Life has truly never been better, and yet I have never been so aware of my own mortality.
I am a new grandparent. Akeelah is my first grandchild! The unmatched joy that comes with watching my six month old granddaughter grow up is accompanied by the unrelenting reminder that it won’t last forever…that I won’t last forever. Not in this way, anyway. Nothing has made me more aware of the brevity of my own life than the beauty of watching hers.
Of course, because of the salvation I have in the finished work of Jesus Christ, I have hope in life eternal. Praise God for that. But the hope that I have in eternity doesn’t eradicate the sadness that comes with the realization that this life, even just this season, doesn’t last forever.
This life, however broken and marred by sin, is truly beautiful, and nothing has made that more apparent to me than watching my granddaughter experience it for herself. Yes, I can rejoice in the eternal hope I have in Christ while also grieving that this present sweetness is only temporary.
So, let’s use our time making a sustainable and a noticeable difference in our corner of the world.
Let’s use our time so when others speak of us they can say what we’ve done and not what we tried to do.
Let’s use our time allowing more people to SEE sermons than just HEAR a sermon.
In her book The Writing Life — Annie Dillard writes, “How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives.” One of the most common parenting truisms says, “The days are long, but the years are short,”
In the Holy Bible, James 4:14, records these words: What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes.
I want my “a little while” to be worthwhile. How about you?
Pastor Darron LaMonte
Lee’s Summit, MO