A dear friend of mine lost her mother this week to cancer. Too young. WAY too young.
She was an amazing woman. She was funny. So funny! What a sense of humor. I always remember her smiling. Every time I saw her she had a big smile on her face. Which made me smile too.
And she loved. Her love for her family was evident any time you talked to her. Because she would talk about them. And smile.
She lived with a condition that should have taken her life long ago, but by faith and the power of God, she lived.
Then, the diagnosis. Cancer. It’s terminal.
What goes through the mind at something like that? I’ve never heard those words. I’ve heard the diagnosis cancer when I had a skin biopsy.
It came back cancerous. Carcinoma. They removed it and that was that. It didn’t spread. It’s gone. That’s it. Life as usual.
But never terminal. What do you think?
I would think the first question would be, “How long?”
How long do I have to live? How long before I move to heaven? How many days do I have with my family? My loved ones? How much life do I have left? What’s the magic number?
Because of the condition, they couldn’t treat it as aggressively as they would’ve liked, but they were able to do something. Once they were through, she had tests, and…..remission. Clear. Good to go.
Boy did the family celebrate! Everyone did. With tears of gratitude and thanksgiving lifted to God.
And a trip. One thing she and her husband did was take all their kids and their spouses to an island for a week. To relax. To enjoy life. To rest in the love they shared as a family. To be together.
Then it came back and now she’s gone from our lives. Only now in our memories. Broken hearts. She moved to heaven and we won’t see her again until we get there.
A terminal diagnosis makes you think. Makes you live differently. It changes your decisions. Your actions. Your words.
You don’t take for granted what’s always going to be there. Because now it won’t be. Time with the ones you love. Time to talk and share and impart.
Time.
Most likely you wouldn’t waste what time you had left watching TV all day. Meaningless shows about people that don’t exist. Or fighting over the covers. Or fighting at all! Or worrying about losing that last 10 pounds. Or if your clothes are the latest fashion. Or surfing Facebook. Or…
And as I was praying for this family this morning, I heard these words in my heart, “It’s terminal.”
For all of us. For everyone. Life is terminal. There is an end. No one is getting out of this thing alive.
Whether we have 3 days, 3 months, or 3 decades left, we need to live like it’s terminal. Like it’s going to end.
Valuing the days.
Living on purpose.
Investing into people.
Boldly going after our dreams.
What would you do differently if you got a terminal diagnosis? What would you change? What would you stop doing? What would you dare to do that you’ve been afraid to try?
This is today’s challenge. Let’s remember it’s terminal. Every moment is precious. Every minute matters. Every second counts. Let’s live like it!
