In the past 12 months or so, we have seen people leave us. Too many people. Young and happy and smiling. In the most spectacular manner. Disease. I always thought it would take longer before words like cancer and floating clots and diabetes starting taking away people my parents' age let alone people my own age. But now every month or so, I feel like I am caught up in some discussion of funeral arrangements for a friend's loved one or the sudden demise of a closely departed. "And they were so young." "It is quite sad that they had to go that way." It scares me that we have so many things in common with these people: Age, interests, dreams, futures.....futures?....futures!! (deep breaths) Yes, they had a future of which ....
I pray the Lord my soul to keep.
I have developed a new fear this past year. A strong fear that the Lord shall take me away before I have lived out my dreams. Before my future is written. I shall die with all these things still in my head. I now have a strong desire to tell every single person I meet every single thought that goes through my mind every single minute of every single day. Because maybe, should the inevitable happen, someone will carry that dream forward. That thought will become reality. So now, I scribble insistently on pieces of paper and the back of doors and notebooks. In coffee bars and on quiet benches. Hoping that should I be unable to fulfill just one of those dreams and ....
If I should die before I wake,
Lord, I was unable to do something new today. I was unable to change a life or make a difference. Will that be the shameful cry of my dying beating heart as I close my eyes for the last time. I pray every day that I may leave an impact on something, anything. I an scared sh#%1&$ that I could go with nothing to show for my life. I pray everyday that someone within my circle of influence, anyone however slightly will have a slightly improved life by my mere existence. But who wants to merely exist? I need to live, to love, to breath, to touch. Should I die before I wake, I will not be ready to go. I will be years away from being ready to go. I will be a shameful eon from being even slightly prepared to start living, let alone dying. Am I living to die? Am I dying to live? Have I been so scared to live that I have actually died. I pray oh Lord, I pray....
I pray to God my soul to take.
So now I am offering this books and papers and words of hopes and dreams to God. I clearly have no idea what I am doing. I have no idea where I am supposed to be going with it all. It is distressing, and hopeless and soul draining...yes, soul draining. Living in this fear. In this unending hopelessness that I shall take with me my soul and my dreams and purpose. Did they have unfulfilled dreams Lord? Had their purpose in this life been fulfilled? Did they know it in that last moment? I need that assurance that when you finally do take my soul to keep that I will know I had done all I could on this land of the living. But....
If I should live for other days,
As I write and discuss and read and develop, I pray that my hand may be held to lead me in the direction I should go. That every day, every single day, I may be able to grow for myself and more importantly for those around me. Singing loudly to the words of "This world is not my home" is not even slightly reassuring. This world has been my home for the past couple of decades. The desire that I may stop saying "Tomorrow I will start on something new" should stop. What happens if today is my last? I should need to do things today. Now. This should be a time for me to leave behind me a lasting legacy. However small, may it be lasting. May I never doubt that I have been put here for a purpose and even as I search the depths and heights to achieve these dreams....
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