They're long gone
"Be happy, young man, while you are young,and let your heart give you joy in the days of your youth. Follow the ways of your heart and whatever your eyes see, but know that for all these things God will bring you to judgment....
Remember your Creator in the days of your youth, before the days of trouble come and the years approach when you will say, "I find no pleasure in them..." (Ecclesiastes 11:9, 12:1)
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Sometimes it hits me....that certain things I wished for and dreamed about as a young child have already come and gone. It hits me with solemnness, but also with awe....that this life on earth is so short, and that only means we are nearer to the eternal life awaiting us with the Lord.
I remember planning my career goals as a youngster. I always told everyone, with utmost seriousness, that I was going to be "a missionary to Japan" when I grew up. I wanted to do something for God, for sure, but I also really wanted to visit Japan and see this country that was immensely fascinating to me. I figured that'd be the best of both worlds; I'd be killing two birds with one stone, so to speak. Well, I'm not a missionary, and I've still not been to Japan. But my life isn't over as of yet.
I remember planning my wedding to the utmost, painful detail as a child. I had white papers full of drawings of my gown, my bridesmaids' gowns, my flowers, everything. I wrote my name in deliberate cursive, adding a different surname to the end, depending on who I had a crush on at that particular time.
I remember the awesome challenge of choosing a college....do I follow either of my parents' footsteps and choose their alma mater, or do I blaze my own trail? What do I major in?
I also remember fleeting thoughts of what my child would look like. I always figured I'd have a daughter first....and she would have red ringlets and freckles just as I did.
I sat down today and surveyed my life as I watched Gardner play. Here I am, sitting here in a house that Ken and I own, with my infant son (who looks like the perfect blend of us both). Instead of assuming the role of missionaryhood, I chose psychology, and never really put that into practice, either, seeing as I've done about everything BUT that since graduation.
My wedding day was just one day, calla lillies everywhere, a sharp, warm day in May of 2000. I wore the ivory, pleated dress (reminiscent of Jackie O's) only that once, for just a few brief hours...the dress and veil which I had been planning and sketching for ten years or more. I find that I actually need to look at photos to remember much of that day....the emotions that flooded it clouded my memory somewhat.
I have already gone through nearly 5 years of marriage, and 9 months of pregnancy, and 7 months of motherhood. Wow. Takes my breath away. How short this life really is. I didn't believe it when Mom told me that hours would go by faster as I grew older. Christmas seemed to take FOREVER to get here. Now it literally seems as if we're pulling out all the decorations just a few weeks after we put them away.
The writer of Ecclesiastes might have penned this book when he himself was about 27 years of age....old enough to have been places, done things, accumulated earthly goods, and gained the wisdom necessary to survey it all and realize its worthlessness. It's funny how adulthood hits you like a boulder....one minute you're a kid, the next, you're smack dab in the middle of real life.
I hope that I took the Bible's advice sufficiently and embraced my childhood moments, those pure, blissful, innocent years full of so many beautiful things. I pray that I will continue to stop and smell the roses even now, with life going at full speed. I don't want to wake up one morning and find my children grown, my hair gray, and my heart empty....I want to make these days count so that I will have a fondness and a peace deep inside when I survey my life years from now.
Let's not rush life. Moments will come, as sure as the world turns. I think if we would stop living for Fridays (and the next "big thing in life"), we would be more content and less anxious. It's a daily struggle to slow down; don't I know. Yet such pleasures await in the slow lane. I refuse to let myself pass them by.
Remember your Creator in the days of your youth, before the days of trouble come and the years approach when you will say, "I find no pleasure in them..." (Ecclesiastes 11:9, 12:1)
________________________________________
Sometimes it hits me....that certain things I wished for and dreamed about as a young child have already come and gone. It hits me with solemnness, but also with awe....that this life on earth is so short, and that only means we are nearer to the eternal life awaiting us with the Lord.
I remember planning my career goals as a youngster. I always told everyone, with utmost seriousness, that I was going to be "a missionary to Japan" when I grew up. I wanted to do something for God, for sure, but I also really wanted to visit Japan and see this country that was immensely fascinating to me. I figured that'd be the best of both worlds; I'd be killing two birds with one stone, so to speak. Well, I'm not a missionary, and I've still not been to Japan. But my life isn't over as of yet.
I remember planning my wedding to the utmost, painful detail as a child. I had white papers full of drawings of my gown, my bridesmaids' gowns, my flowers, everything. I wrote my name in deliberate cursive, adding a different surname to the end, depending on who I had a crush on at that particular time.
I remember the awesome challenge of choosing a college....do I follow either of my parents' footsteps and choose their alma mater, or do I blaze my own trail? What do I major in?
I also remember fleeting thoughts of what my child would look like. I always figured I'd have a daughter first....and she would have red ringlets and freckles just as I did.
I sat down today and surveyed my life as I watched Gardner play. Here I am, sitting here in a house that Ken and I own, with my infant son (who looks like the perfect blend of us both). Instead of assuming the role of missionaryhood, I chose psychology, and never really put that into practice, either, seeing as I've done about everything BUT that since graduation.
My wedding day was just one day, calla lillies everywhere, a sharp, warm day in May of 2000. I wore the ivory, pleated dress (reminiscent of Jackie O's) only that once, for just a few brief hours...the dress and veil which I had been planning and sketching for ten years or more. I find that I actually need to look at photos to remember much of that day....the emotions that flooded it clouded my memory somewhat.
I have already gone through nearly 5 years of marriage, and 9 months of pregnancy, and 7 months of motherhood. Wow. Takes my breath away. How short this life really is. I didn't believe it when Mom told me that hours would go by faster as I grew older. Christmas seemed to take FOREVER to get here. Now it literally seems as if we're pulling out all the decorations just a few weeks after we put them away.
The writer of Ecclesiastes might have penned this book when he himself was about 27 years of age....old enough to have been places, done things, accumulated earthly goods, and gained the wisdom necessary to survey it all and realize its worthlessness. It's funny how adulthood hits you like a boulder....one minute you're a kid, the next, you're smack dab in the middle of real life.
I hope that I took the Bible's advice sufficiently and embraced my childhood moments, those pure, blissful, innocent years full of so many beautiful things. I pray that I will continue to stop and smell the roses even now, with life going at full speed. I don't want to wake up one morning and find my children grown, my hair gray, and my heart empty....I want to make these days count so that I will have a fondness and a peace deep inside when I survey my life years from now.
Let's not rush life. Moments will come, as sure as the world turns. I think if we would stop living for Fridays (and the next "big thing in life"), we would be more content and less anxious. It's a daily struggle to slow down; don't I know. Yet such pleasures await in the slow lane. I refuse to let myself pass them by.
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