I’d like to tell you a story, my friend. To give you an inside glimpse at one of my most precious memories. I am currently on a little weekend getaway with my beloved husband to celebrate my birthday. We are staying at a friend’s beach house, and being so close to the beautiful ocean has led me to think on a day which is forever instilled in my mind.
Both my sister and I worked geographically near each other many years ago. Living in Israel at the time, Fridays were the beginning of the Sabbath, and so we both finished work early that day. We got into the wonderful habit of getting together for something fun to do for those end-of-week afternoons.
We would visit the local markets in Tel Aviv, sit out in the warm sun at cafés, and walk the ancient streets of nearby Jaffa. Precious times of fellowship together in which a bond of indescribably close friendship was formed.
There is one memory that stands out from amongst the rest.
It must have taken place around October because I remember that it wasn’t scorching hot, rather gorgeously pleasant. We decided to go to the beach and swim. We arrived, happily chattering away, set ourselves up with towels, lotion, and picnic goodies, and then headed into the sea.
The water that day was so calm and serene with only bobbing currents every now and then where a wave would have formed. The sun was glistening onto the deep, blue water and gently onto our skin. I remember thinking in those glorious moments as I floated along with my arms stretched out, that I wanted to stay there forever. As I soaked in the rays of sunlight, that beautiful memory of being with my Lord as well as with my best friend seeped into my soul, and the tranquil joy that I felt with both was etched upon my mind.
I share this personal flashback with you, dear one, for a purpose.
A purpose that may jolt you back into reality. You see, it was less than six short years later, that my sister was killed in a car accident. My best friend. A woman who held my heart, my secrets, and with whom castles of countless memories were built. I know I will see her in Heaven, but the loss of her companionship on the earth even 14 years later is, to be honest, territory I rarely visit. The pain cuts too deep and the heartbreak is too great.
Jesus is one who knew how to make the most of each moment with loved ones. In John 7:33-34, as He was about to be arrested, He said to His treasured disciples, “I will be with you a little longer, and then I am going to Him who sent me. You will seek me and you will not find me. Where I am you cannot come.” It was at that point that the disciples should have understood the path to meaningful relationships was not to take our time with those close to us for granted, but rather to make every minute count.
- Say those touching thoughts you feel but don’t express to your parents.
- Be the embodiment of kindness and gentleness to your husband.
- Sacrificially lay down your life for your brother in acts of service.
And mostly, where your Creator is concerned, the One most worthy of your soul, time, and devotion – live for Him, obey His Word, adhere to his rich statutes, bow before Him in gratitude and humility. As though this day were your last, and this chance your greatest. Glorify Your King.
Your days on this earth are not a right, they are a gift Tweet
As I spend precious moments with my beloved husband this weekend, I am aware not to take him or our time together for granted. This may be my last birthday, or it may be his last days. Most probably not. But only God knows. It is our responsibility to weigh and consider every second, pour out our love at every opportunity, and resolve to live this day as though it were our last.
What would you change in your relationships if you were to consider that your days, and those of your loved ones, are numbered?