A couple nights ago I got the phone call that no one wants to get. At 2:30 am i answered my phone to hear: “Linds, Jamie’s in the hospital, they’ve intibated her, she’s on a vent and they’re bringing her to the icu, I didn’t know who else to call…” I can handle the drunken, late night calls from friends needing rides, or just to cry–I’ve gotten them enough. But this, this was different. It had gone beyond the drunken phone call, and the only thing i could do was pray….Thank God she’s okay now. But needless to say, she gave us all a pretty good scare, and the past few days were long and stressful trying to be there for her and the family, and wondering what the outcome of it all would be.
You always hear of who people have a near-death experience, or have someone close to them die, and you see how they begin to appreciate life a little more. I guess as cliche as it is, I find myself in with a similar mindset. I realize how fragile this life is, how worthless some of the things we cling on to are, and it makes me wonder where my priorities are. You see, I’m the type of person that likes to plan. I make lists of the lists I have to make (no joke). It’s unhealthy, i know…but i like to see a clear cut plan of what needs to be done, how it’s going to get done, and well I guess I’m just certifiably insane. In the end, i suppose it gives me a sense of accomplishment to see it all finished. Stupid right? But recently I’ve been trying not to focus so much on the future for two reasons: First, God himself told us tomorrow isn’t promised to us. So why waste 90% of your days getting things ready for your tomorrows, missing out on all the opportunities right in front of you, when you may not even make it until tomorrow. Secondly, I’ve noticed, the majority of “my perfect plans” change by the time tomorrow comes anyways, which only means that all of those countless days worrying and planning were useless and wasted. So live for today. So don’t miss opportunities that are in front of you now, because you’re planning for tomorrow.
