What Is Your Life’s Manifesto?

It took me five tries to write this all out before my fingers would cooperate and type what I am thinking and feeling…

In the past four days, there have been two tragic car accidents that I have had to report on.  One took the life of a 17-year-old girl.  The other was a 26-year-old mom of two sons, ages 6 and 1.  Investigations as to the cause of the accidents are still underway. 

But that’s not what I’ve been focusing on.

My thoughts have been about ‘life and death’.  

Life – something that takes time and effort to begin.  

Death – what brings a heartbeat to an end…quickly.  

In less time than it takes to inhale air into breathing lungs, the life of the person could be gone.

This past week, I also celebrated the third anniversary of a friend’s entrance into heaven.  Some of you may remember when I posted on Facebook about a brother in Christ who had fallen into the Rogue River and drowned.  (Crazy how that was three years ago.)  And while the sadness and grief of losing someone close to you can last a lifetime, their souls are present before the Savior instantly.

For every car accident report and obituary that I’ve had to write this week, God allowed other emails and news to come to me, such as birth announcements – one of my favorite things to write for the paper.  Not only to write out details about a newborn baby weighing 9 pounds 3 ounces or another measuring 21 inches, but also to see pictures of him or her.  Such small, delicate, sweet little humans.  Aren’t babies a wonderful way to start people? 

So I’ve realized something.  

And honestly, it’s been the only thing that’s kept me from breaking down – not for myself, but for the families and friends who are hurting because their loved one is gone from this earth – amidst the loss, the grieving, the difficulty, the deaths…God still allows beautiful occurrences.  He still brings life.  

What a blessed treasure this thing called ‘life’ is.  The ability to move, to speak, to see, to feel, to think.  Even when everything we experience is, in our eyes, not good, there’s a bigger plan and picture that we do not yet see.  Or may never see.  

But in this moment, right here and now, are we living a life worth remembering?  Are we living a life that, if we were to die within the next hour, people will see as part of the big picture years from now?
What is your ultimatum – for yourself?  

What is your life’s manifesto?

1 comment:

  1. First, I'm so sorry that you've had such loss and for those you know who are feeling those pains sharper, I'm sorry. Losing someone is a fact of life, unfortunately, but knowing that doesn't make it any easier. I completely agree with you though, about embracing this life and realizing that despite the pain there is still such beauty. I often tell my wife the same thing (she suffers from depression) and constant little reminders of life's joys can mean the world to something feeling that crushing suffering. Beautiful post!