How do I know this? I know this because on October 4th, I got out a calculator I started counting.
It was on that same day my friend Deedy lost her long battle with cancer and went home to be with the Lord. It was then and only then that she stopped counting her own days.
When I heard the details of Deedy’s passing I went out on my porch to let the news sink into my reality. As I pondered the details, the air seemed to get lighter, the breeze blew a little cooler, and the birds sang louder. I soaked in every morsel of God’s creation. It felt good to be alive.
That’s when I started counting my days. Twenty thousand six-hundred and fifty-five days to be exact since this girly girl came into the world.
Truth is, before I rarely counted a day, I’m too busy with the rush, rush…what’s for dinner?, go to the grocery, no underwear in the drawer?, do some more laundry. Mee’maw’s has a doctor’s appointment when?, a blog post’s due, the house is a mess, need to buy a gift, have to prepare for Bible study tomorrow, bills are waiting, and on and on and on I go…run, run, rush, rush.
But today the hurry stopped.
I thought of Deedy’s life, and I was reminded of Psalm 90:12 where Moses wrote, “Teach us to number our days that we may gain a heart of wisdom”.
Deedy was a wise woman. She never took one day for granted. She savored each and every one.
Count each day and make every day count.
In Psalm 90 we are reminded that our days on this earth are few and that we need to keep an account of each one. A wise person knows rushing is futile, understands that relationships come first, and joy should be the forethought, worry should be an afterthought.
Joy should be a forethought and worry and afterthought.
A person who numbers their days lives every day as if it were their last. They live every day well.
About a year in a half ago, at Christmas time I was doing my usual griping and complaining about all there was to do. The house was like a bed and breakfast and I was the short-order cook and maid all wrapped in one. The dishwasher needed to be loaded and unloaded, loaded and unloaded over and over again! It seemed endless and pointless. The busy mundane was driving me mad!
While wrapping gifts and making sure everybody in the free world was happy, the phone rang. It was Deedy. She called to thank me for a gift I helped her get for one of her children.
I asked how she was feeling and her reply shot through my heart like an arrow knocking me to my knees with conviction.
With a voice full of a giddy joy, she told me how this Christmas she felt well enough to do what she loved…cook for the kids, load and unload the dishwasher, do the laundry, and be a mom.
I saw the mundane as madness. Deedy saw the mundane as miraculous and praised God all the more for it.
Deedy was never in a hurry. She numbered each day and filled it with love. She knew what to keep as important and what to throw out. But this is how she lived all her life, not just in sickness but also in health.
She leaves her family a legacy of joy that endured even in the worst of circumstances. She leaves a legacy of peace because she trusted in the God of Hope. Romans 15:13
So I’m challenged today to bury the hurry, and hush the rush.
Count each day and make each day count.
Make the miraculous out of the mundane.
And create a legacy, starting now.
What about you?
*How many days have you graced this earth? Count them up, leave a number as a comment. I promise not to compute it into years.