In the Blink of an Eye

One thing that has become abundantly clear to me this year is that life on this earth is so fleeting, so non-permanent. Until the blood clot in my lung in July, I woke up each day thinking about my immediate issues: Noah, teaching, finances, laundry.

But post 27 July, my outlook changed. I will never, ever forget laying on that hospital table in the emergency room after having found out I had a blood clot in my lung, then saying goodbye to Dan and Ellyotte as they wheeled me to my hospital room in the ICU unit only DAYS after I had left the same hospital after Ellyotte's birth. I laid on that table while having my leg ultrasound and wept; I was quietly crying my eyes out.

I kept thinking about the scene in "Steel Magonolias" when Sally Field was screaming in the cemetary "...that baby will never know how wonderful his mother was and how much she loved him." I realized that had I not gone into the emergency room when I did, my babies wouldn't have a mother. Dan wouldn't have a wife. My parents would be planning my funeral and my sister would be heartbroken.

But what I also realized 100% was how short life on this earth is; how fleeting our moments as humans really are. In the blink of an eye, we are dust in the wind. What matters in this life is our relationship with Jesus and our relationships with others. That's it. Money, material things, nothing besides those two things matter.

This has been a tough year for me and those that I love: we lost my dear friend, Chris Patterson (age 32) to H1N1 last November. My Aunt Mamie is struggling to fight the viscious bone cancer that is ravaging her body. My grandmother is debilitated by unbearable back pain and nothing is helping her - her quality of life is so bad. And just yesterday, one of my dear friends from Troy University, Tim Ward, was tragically killed. Tim was cleaning his pistol before heading to the Alabama game and it accidentally discharged into his abdomen. Tim died shortly after.

All day, I have just wept. Yes, life is short, we aren't promised tomorrow, "To live is Christ and to die is gain," but none of that eases the pain that comes with death or dying. We will all go at some point and if we are believers, we have so much to look forward to once we have left our shells. But the ones left behind are left with hearts breaking.

My mom lost her brother from the same thing that happened to me. He had knee surgery at the age of 36 and went home to recover. He started having shortness of breath and dropped dead from a pulmonary embolism. My mom has never gotten over losing her brother - he had a young wife and two pre-teen boys and a family who adored him. That's what has happened with Tim: he has left behind so many people who love him. His daddy, and two sisters. I am friends with his sister, Jill (she lives next to my parents at the Waters) and she is understandably devestated. I hope that my mom can minister to her in her time of loss, grief and one day, recovery since my mom experienced the same thing in losing her only brother.

I knew Tim for almost 2 decades and there isn't one time that I was in his presence that he didn't make me laugh hysterically. I saw him just a few weeks ago when I was home visiting. He got to see Noah and meet Ellyotte. I told him about what happened to me right after I had Ellyotte. We talked about how short and unpredictable life can be. We hugged, laughed and he reassured me of his happiness and said "life is GOOD." That's how I will always remember my dear friend, Tim Ward. He was FULL of life and never left a person without a smile. Bottom line: Tim brought joy wherever he went and he will be so, so missed. But I look forward to that day that our friendship can continue in Heaven.