Life is terminal. No one gets out of this world alive. Many years ago I read an essay about tombstones and how birth and death are recorded: April 4, 1832 – August 23, 1871. The writer wrote, “When I look at gravestones I wonder what happened during the time marked by the dash.” The Psalmist wondered the same:
“Show me, Lord, my life’s end and the number of my days;
let me know how fleeting my life is.
You have made my days a mere handbreadth;
the span of my years is as nothing before you.
Everyone is but a breath, even those who seem secure. – Psalm 39:4-5
It is always good to reflect on one’s mortality. Why? Humans are the only creatures born with the capacity to reflect. As we stop and reflect on our lives and the uncertainty of our days, we begin to consider how are days are being spent. Are there people to whom I need say, “I forgive you?” Are there people to whom I need to say, “Please forgive me?” Are there people to whom I need to say, “Thank you?” Are there people to whom I need say, “I love you.” – Ron Friesen