On The Day I Die
By Robert (Bob) W. Jones
On the day I die the world will be busy.
All the important appointments I made will be broken. The “new-to-North Pointe”-er wanting to become connected will be left sitting at Starbucks wondering why.
If I were still alive I’d feel embarrassed. So embarrassed.
The calendar that organized so many of my days will now be irrelevant to me.
The messy desk that haunted so much of my conscious thought will finally be cleared.
Material things I guarded will be left in the hands of others to care for. Or sell. Or discard.
All my incoming emails, SLACK, Instagrams, texts and calls will go ignored.
The ambition behind my unfinished posts, tweets, messages, articles and books will be unrequited.
Every superficial worry will fade away.
The reputation I once attended to will be of little concern anymore.
My critics words will now have zero influence.
All my small and large anxieties will be rendered powerless.
Life’s unfairness, complexities, conundrums, and pain will be seen from the topside of life’s patchwork quilt.
The incredible mysteries about death will finally be clarified in a way that they could never be while I lived.
These things will certainly all be true on the day I die.
Morbid?
Perhaps.
I’ve just gone through three funerals in twenty-four hours on a holiday weekend. A 19 year old, an 89 year old and a 53 year old. Two were sudden deaths.
My day will come.
Yet for as much as will happen on that day, one more thing will happen.
On the day I die, the few people who really know and truly love me will cry.
They will feel emptiness.
They will not feel ready.
And on that day, more than anything in the world they will want more time with me.
The commonality for each grieving family I serve is a wish for more time. One last conversation. A kiss. An embrace.
And so knowing this, I force myself to remember that my time with family and friends is finite. And fleeting. And precious.
I’ll do my best not to waste it.
I’ll try not to squander a priceless moment worrying about all the things that are either not my concern or beyond my control.
Chasing after the wind – other things – keeps you from living even as you live.
Other things rob you of time with those who love you and want only to share life with you.
It’s easy to waste so much daylight in the days before you die.
Don’t let your life be stolen by the bill of sale on all that you’ve been led to believe matters.
On the day you die, the fact is that much of it simply won’t. Matter.
Hug hugely.
Live freely.
Kiss without fear.
A shining life for the one and only eternal God and Savior.
About this Contributor:
Robert (Bob) W. Jones is a recovering perfectionist, who collects Coca-Cola memorabilia and drinks Iced Tea. His office walls are adorned with his sons’ framed football jerseys, and his library shelves, with soul food. He writes to inspire people to be real, grow an authentic faith in Jesus, enjoy healthy relationships and discover their life purpose.
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