Every early, darkish morning I throw my long black wool coat over my robe, walk down our front steps and take big gulps of damp country air on my way to snatching the newspaper from our mailbox. I keep reminding myself to treasure every moment out here. This is, after all, my thirty-five-year-old dream come true, endless work and all. Work which--mostly--I am enjoying, tired muscles and everything else.
But even with all the treasuring and enjoying and noticing and breathing-in, it all still goes too fast. It'll be Tuesday, the day to take out the trash and then--before I blink, even--it's the next Tuesday and time to take it out again. Weekend to weekend, seems only two days are between. And I'm always turning the calendar, it feels like.... even with all the noticing and breathing-in and treasuring. Still, it all sails past too quickly.
And like this morning... I found out on Facebook from an old friend that another old friend, one from long ago, passed away. He was only a few years older than Tom and myself, a pastor who'd been ill for a couple years. I'm sure it all went by too fast for him and way too quickly for the family he left behind.
So while I am still here upon this Earth, upon these four acres, I will keep treasuring each new day and I'll try to slow it all down, even though, it will still go by too fast. It always does.
.... Good-bye, Greg. I will remember you.
"What is the nature of your life? You are [really] but a wisp of vapor (a puff of smoke, a mist) that is visible for a little while and then disappears [into thin air]." ... James 4:14