ON THE SHORTNESS OF LIFE

“Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?”

A few years ago, I got a call from the UK. My dear senior sister was to be moved to a hospice. I knew I had to be there to help with the move. She had been sick for a few years, and that month, the doctors said there was nothing else that could be done.

The hospice was a lovely, quaint little place. The garden was exquisite—a well-manicured garden wrapped around the building, peaceful and surrounded by lush green grass and tall trees. I think I even saw a running stream. You could tell that they had made a deliberate effort to create a place of calm and rest for those on the last leg of their journey on earth.

There was no sense of sadness in that building; everything was done in a way that could almost make you forget that you were not coming out of there alive. It seemed that no expense was spared to make the ending comfortable for those dear ones who had to journey onwards from there. Their food was excellent—chef-prepared. You would be forgiven for thinking you were in a five-star restaurant. I remember laughing with my sister when she said in my native language, “These people are really enjoying it here.” Now, I roll my eyes at the thought of that kind of enjoyment.

Occasionally, there would be the tolling of a bell. We were told on check-in that it was a signal not to come out of our rooms, out of respect for the dead, because someone had just died and was being moved along the corridors. So, three or four times a day, you would hear the toll—a reminder that a life once lived had just ended.

My sister later passed on, and I left the UK with lessons about life and living.

As I recall these difficult moments, I thought to look at grief and dying through the eyes of the Bible.

When Jesus arrived at Lazarus's tomb, Scripture tells us that when He “saw her weeping, and the Jews also weeping which came with her,” He was deeply moved in spirit and troubled (John 11:33). Then, in two simple words, Scripture records: “Jesus wept” (John 11:35).

Jesus wept for the family of the dead, for their sadness and anguish over their loss. He felt their sorrow even though He knew that He was going to raise Lazarus. He took a moment to feel their heart pain.

No wonder the Bible says about Him:

“For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin.”Hebrews 4:15, ESV

He knew the language of pain. He understood grief and sadness and comforted them by weeping along with them. In modern parlance, we would say He stood in solidarity with the family.

Hear what the people said when they saw Him weeping:

“See how he loved him!”John 11:36, KJV

Other personalities in the Bible also experienced the pain of loss. Abraham mourned;

Scripture says he “came to mourn for Sarah, and to weep for her” (Genesis 23:2). David mourned Absalom, his son—even though Absalom had tried to kill him. David's sorrow was palpable when he learned of his death: “O my son Absalom, my son, my son Absalom! Would God I had died for thee…” (2 Samuel 18:33).

Job also grieved catastrophic loss. After losing his children and possessions, he “rent his mantle, and shaved his head, and fell down upon the ground” (Job 1:20). He was overcome with sorrow.

This same sense of helplessness, heartache, emptiness and deep sorrow is true for us when we lose someone we know. We cry out of love for them; we weep and ask why. In the days after, we miss them and long for one more conversation, one more laugh, or one more phone call. And then we realize the finality of it and keep living.

Indeed, the Bible reassures us that Heaven itself sees the pain and the tears and promises that one day it will all end:

“And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying…”Revelation 21:4, KJV

But for those of us who are living, there is an urgent question: How then should we live, knowing that this life will one day end?

Scripture tells us that “to every thing there is a season”—a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance (Ecclesiastes 3:1, 4). There is a time to mourn. There is also a time to keep living.

A character in a book I read, himself approaching the end of his life, makes a succinct point: “Once you learn how to die, you learn how to live.”

What does this even mean? I ask myself.

He explains that many of us go through life almost as though we are sleepwalking, doing what we automatically think we have to do. But facing death changes the way we see things. It strips away much of what once seemed important and brings the essential things into focus.

There is so much truth in this. When you know, you learn to slow down. The ambition driving you loses some of its power, and things that seemed so important at the time—the arguments, the appointments and the to-dos—do not matter quite as much anymore.

The things we paid less attention to suddenly become important.

Hear another person reflecting near the end of her journey:

“I have learned to quit speeding through life, always trying to do too many things too quickly, without taking the time to enjoy each day’s doings… Now I love the dailiness. I enjoy washing dishes, I enjoy cooking, I see my father’s roses out the kitchen window. I like picking beans. I notice everything—birdsong, the clouds, the sound of wind, the glory of sunshine after two weeks of rain. These things I took for granted before.”— Olive Ann Burns

It is clear that we need to revisit what is important before life gets to the point where it is ending. We do not have to wait until life is ending to take stock of the days we have and how best to use them. Neither should we wait for retirement or until the children are grown to begin to live as we want.

Learning to live well means learning from the losses we have seen and experienced, then auditing our lives. Knowing that there is an end should cause us to prepare for it.

One way to do so is to look at death and take its lessons for those of us who are living.

The writer of Ecclesiastes makes this point very well:

“It is better to go to the house of mourning, than to go to the house of feasting: for that is the end of all men; and the living will lay it to his heart.”Ecclesiastes 7:2, KJV

“The living will lay it to his heart.”

Indeed, reflecting on death can help us learn how to live well.

Moses understood why we need to reflect on the brevity of our lives. He prayed, “So teach us to number our days, that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom” (Psalm 90:12).

Wisdom on how to live. Wisdom on how not to waste the days we have. Wisdom on how to use them well.

How Then Should We Live?

If our days are numbered, then how we spend them matters. Scripture tells us to “walk circumspectly, not as fools, but as wise,” redeeming the time (Ephesians 5:15–16).

The time spent on arguments with friends, children, spouses or even strangers; the time we give to annoyances; the hours we spend scrolling the internet—I am guilty of this too—or watching television, all count towards our days here.

So what should be our focus?

Scripture does not leave us without an answer. Micah says that God has already shown us what is good: “to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God” (Micah 6:8).

Ecclesiastes, traditionally attributed to Solomon—a king known for his great wealth and wisdom—examines life in all its complexity and eventually comes to this conclusion:

“Let us hear the conclusion of the whole matter: Fear God, and keep his commandments: for this is the whole duty of man.”Ecclesiastes 12:13, KJV

The conclusion of the whole matter: Fear God and keep His commandments.

Jesus summarized those commandments around two great priorities: “Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind,” and “Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself” (Matthew 22:37, 39).

If the living are to “lay it to heart,” then something about the way we live should change. We cannot number our days and then continue spending them as though they are without number.

1. Put God First

Perhaps this is where we too must begin.

In our lives, we must make God a priority and let Him always be first.

We know this is easier said than done. Our lives can become so busy with deadlines to meet, places to go, children and families to care for, appointments to keep and bills to pay that we do everything else first. When we are finally done with all that, we then turn our attention to Him.

God must not become the person we get to after everything else is done.

To get it right, we must rearrange our lives to put Him first. And perhaps the simple children's song many of us sang in church gives us a good place to start:

“Read your Bible, pray every day…”

Simple as it sounds, there is wisdom in it. Make time for God every day. Read His Word.

Pray. Speak with Him. Listen for His direction.  Take Him with us into the decisions, plans and ordinary details of our day.

Putting God first does not happen simply because we intend to do it. We make room for Him.

2 Live With Contentment

We can also spend a great deal of our limited time chasing more—the bigger house, the bigger paycheck, the next achievement, the next thing we believe will finally make life better.

There is nothing wrong with wanting greater comfort or financial stability. We have obligations to meet and people to care for. But the pursuit of more must not become the pursuit around which our whole lives revolve.

Paul said, “I have learned, in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content” (Philippians 4:11).

Perhaps part of living well is being grateful and thanking God for what we already have while depending on Him for what we need. At the same time, we learn to enjoy what is already in our hands while we work toward what we still need.

Otherwise, we may spend today—and the remaining days—trying to get all that we want without paying attention to the days that are slipping by.

3. Build Your People Around You

Then there are the people in our lives.

Jesus said that after loving God, the second great commandment is to “love thy neighbour as thyself.” If people matter that much to God, they should matter in the way we spend our days.

When we look at the life of Jesus, we see that He made time for people. He went to Zacchaeus and said, “Make haste, and come down; for to day I must abide at thy house” (Luke 19:5). He ate in Peter's home, where Peter's mother-in-law, after being healed, “arose, and ministered unto them” (Matthew 8:15).

He spent time in the home of Martha, Mary and Lazarus—a family He loved (John 11:5). He also took time to attend a wedding in Cana with His mother and His disciples (John 2:1–2).

There is something to learn from this.

Spend time with the people we love and the people who love us. Open our homes. Share meals. Sit around the table longer. Call someone. Laugh together. Bring people into our space. Share what we know. Give people the benefit of our experience. These are the very things that make a great life.

4. Make Your Life Count

There is also the question of what we leave behind.

Micah says that God has already shown us what is good: “to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God.”

So use what is in our hands. Be generous. Meet a need where we see one. Help someone who cannot repay us. Use our skills, knowledge, experience and resources to create something meaningful or make someone's life a little better.

With what we have, we can change somebody's life, no matter how little it may seem.

Pay Attention to the Daily Things

And perhaps Olive Ann Burns gives us one of the simplest lessons of all: “Now I love the dailiness.”

So much of life is daily.

It is the meal eaten together. The conversation in the kitchen. The laughter that erupts over something silly. The flowers blooming outside. The birdsong. The familiar voice on the telephone. The ordinary people we see every day. The little things we hardly notice because we assume they will still be there tomorrow.

These should not be considered interruptions to our lives. As Olive Ann Burns discovered near the end of hers, they are the important parts of life.

So perhaps these are some of the lessons we can take from the shortness of life:

Love God — make Him the priority.

Love people — build community around us.

Live with contentment — look at our lives with gratitude.

Do some good — be generous with what we have.

Use our time well — pay greater attention to what we give our days to.

Notice the life we are living — while we still have it.

Then, when all is said and done, perhaps we can look back and be grateful that we did not merely pass through our days.

We lived them.

As You Go About Your Day…

Reflect on the lessons we have considered today, and ask yourself:

• Am I waiting for some future time to begin living?

• How have I been living the days God has given me?

What changes can I make, starting today, to live more fully and wisely?

May God give us the grace to number our days and apply our hearts unto wisdom. In Jesus’ name. Amen.