“Show me, Lord, my life’s end and the number of my days, let me know how fleeting life is” (Ps. 39:4).

I am going to die.

No, I haven’t received a terminal disease diagnosis.

Rather I did not die last year when I was thrown head over heel high in the air and landed on concrete because a distracted golf cart driver smashed into me.

I did not die because an angel gently laid me down.  God wanted me to live.

Since then, I think every day that I am going to die and this is one of the last.  As a result, my perspective on what I do, what I want, what is important has changed.  I always thought I had a handle on priorities.  I didn’t at the deepest level.  Intellectually, yes, I did.  But soulfully and spiritually, no I didn’t.

With death acknowledged trees are really spectacular.  I have always loved the beauty of a tree but now they are iridescent almost otherworldly.  They are truly crying out the majesty of our Creator and Saviour.

I don’t care so much if I don’t get the evening ice cream I had to have.  I can even delay and do without that wake-up cup of coffee.

The annoyances in relationships are passing, not entrenched.   The sufferings of others hurt a lot more.

And so, I have come to realize how much better life is now that I know I am going to die.

As Job says, “In His hand is the life of every creature and the breath of all mankind” (12:10).

God is good.

Rosemary