It was a sunny Sunday morning. I watched her descend the three steps to children’s church whilst she clutched her mama’s hand. She was dressed in a pretty white dress and her beautiful raven-black hair glistened in the sunlight as it cascaded down to her shoulders. “She really is the very depiction of her name”, I thought. As I wrote it at the top of her coloring sheet, Angel.
That was two years ago. Last week, this sweet little girl, only seven years old, went to be with Jesus.
In a class full of children I only saw on Sundays, I’ll admit it wasn’t easy to remember every little detail of every single child. But I do remember quite a bit about Angel. She was quiet, and well-behaved. She had a pretty smile and a caring heart, she shared her crayons, and never made a fuss. She was a calm presence in the midst of a mob of hyperactive toddlers, and she loved Jesus. Because of this, I couldn’t help but cry when I got the news. Another beautiful little light full of such hope and promise, gone.
I have learned not to question God. Not to ask why. My human understanding could never be able to fathom or comprehend why things like this happen. In a world of chaos and confusion, where on the news everyday there are stories about babies being kidnapped and raped, scatters of tiny tots running rampant in the streets, their mothers and fathers nowhere to be seen? Orphaned or abandoned. Handfuls of little souls being shot to death by reckless rogues laden with firearms. In a world like this, the only way you can come to terms with such incidents is to trust in He alone that knows the answers. As human as we are, it’s difficult. Because His thoughts are way above ours. But that’s a post for another day.
Life is too short. So many times we utter this phrase, often in reckless manner, forgetting that there is power in the tongue. We say it over and over without so much as an afterthought, instead of remembering that God promised to satisfy us with long life, and standing on that promise.
How long is long though? How does one begin to reconcile that promise to the fact that millions of little children are dying everyday, not living long enough to even begin to experience the beauty of life, the art of being? It doesn’t add up. I like to think that we are given long enough.
I heard it said once that every year, we go past our birthday, celebrating and growing, knowing it. And yet, we unknowingly go past our death-day, every single year. That sent shivers down my spine. You never really know if today is going to be your last day. If you did, what would you do differently? Would you help that person that asked for a hand when you were done shopping or will you go ahead and stuff your change in your pocket anyway? Would you pray for that person you felt was impressed upon your heart or would you still shove them to the bottom of your to do list and then not do it anyway? Would you push back your blankets and be excited for a new day to do something different, or would you hit snooze on your alarm for the umpteenth time and procrastinate on making your dreams a reality?
Makes you think doesn’t it.
So many of us take our lives for granted, forgetting that some people never lived to see a decade, never got to where you have reached and yet we still don’t live each day to the full.What are you doing with your time? You have 525,600 minutes every year, to do something, anything. Use them wisely. Believe. Dream, Be.
“Don’t put off until tomorrow what you can do today.”