Living on Borrowed Time

It may be the dreary skies, it may be the after holiday blues, and it may even be that we are again entering the winter season of grief but I am feeling emotionally strung out.  I feel raw, exposed and vulnerable this rainy Monday morning.  As the familiar dates begin to re-appear, I am feeling the weight of loss and although I am getting much better at the balance between the sadness of yesterday and the joy of today (thank you God), there are certain days that will always prick me to my heart's core.

January 25th for instance is one.  Four years ago on the 25th of January we dedicated our sweet baby to Jesus along with an early birthday party bash at the church.  The church was packed with amazing family and friends - many of which traveled to be there for this celebration.  4 years ago we were celebrating Grace's 1 year birthday and this year we will be remembering her 5th.  Insert long *sigh* here.   The 25th of January, 2009 was such a bittersweet day.  We were told earlier that week that she was in fact regressing, and we were given the words 'palliative care' and 'keep her comfortable' but we hadn't bought in just yet.  There is a strange dichotomy that comes to those in such peril; to those stuck in that proverbial rock and hard place.  You long and hope for the best outcome, while all the while a nagging feeling of the opposite keeps rising within.  It was in this balance that we found ourselves that beautifully painful day in January.

We dedicated and released our littlest lamb to Jesus trusting that He would make all things beautiful in His time. Ecclesiastes 3:11  This dedication was not like the ones we had experienced before when we brought our healthy children to the Lord and asked for guidance to rear them and love them.  No, this dedication was a turning point for us.  We released our baby girl to the Shepherd and His will for her.  Did we still hope she would make a full recovery?   Most assuredly, yet in the moment captured in the picture below, a painful shift occurred in our hearts.  Gracie was indeed living on borrowed time.

My heart's memory flashed back to that hospital hallway where I pleaded with God for more time with my baby.  I realized in that lonely hallway that Grace was on the edge of her life and that all I wanted was for more time with her.  So I pleaded like never before and although God did not answer my prayer for complete healing for here on earth, He did grant me the gift of time.

Every so often my spirit is still nudged and reminded that we all are living on borrowed time.  Every breath we take is given to us it is not ours to determine the days, hours or seconds.  When one is in crisis this thought of 'living each day like it's your last' is suddenly slammed into your face like a cruel, unexpected wind that takes your breath away.  Yet when the winds of crisis settle, we fall back into this deceptive thought that life is ours and runs on our time and in our control.  The reality is that we are all living on borrowed time.  I am reminded this rainy Monday to love Christ and others with all that I have so that when crisis comes, I will have no regrets about loving this life I have been given.  I am challenged today as I think and pray for the beautiful brave souls going through all sorts of differing crises today.  I am challenged to love my family and community around me so that they know who I belong to, not only in times of crisis, but in the beautifully mundane moments of the everyday as well.