The Lasting Memories

On the first day of November, I am greeted by a street of white, brick buildings laden with snow that actually fell the day before. Yes, our first snowfall of the season came in October. Goodbye, fall. Winter wants to arrive early. The beauty of my favorite season, forced to a shuddering end. I tried as best I could to savor it, because I knew how fleeting all the colors, the feel of fall, would be.

Like seasons, this life, too, is fleeting. We are given a little time here on earth to make what we can of it, cultivate relationships, redirect our callings. And when God is satisfied at how our days were spent and wants us home, we go.

Every ounce of what we are allowed here is precious, delicate, important, true.

Time is but a breath, our years but a heartbeat.

What lasts?

The ordinary moments that swell inside me, freeze me in the middle of their actions and sting my eyes with gratitude. Coffee in the morning. Lake Michigan. Eric’s laugh, his honest blue eyes. Every breath. At least, until the last one God gives me is done.//

What lasts?

Living into our legacy that might remain for a few more years. Digging into the dreams of family and friends, encouraging them, believing in them. A charcoal blue sky against mostly barren trees save a few russet leaves that aren’t ready to let go just yet. Sunlight spraying shadows in slants across an angled roof. My fingers, curled around a blue pen.

Find what is precious and hold it to the light, turn it in your hands and notice it from all angles. Watch where it sparkles, where it is smooth.

Don’t waste time on what is trivial. Go deep. Be genuine. Let everything be done in love. Believe for the impossible. Look for what lasts and light it aflame within.

It is a new month. What will be the lasting memories that come from these days? I want to live each one out to the full, focused on the present, giving whole-hearted thanks from my hole-filled heart.

Open wide for the wonder anew. What the Almighty can do. And be ready to be astonished. For there it all begins—at the One who is the first and the last.

 

 

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Continuing my attempt at the Five Minute Friday weekly writing challenge. Five minutes to write on the assigned topic. Raw and unedited. (Yikes!) This week’s topic: Last.   // symbolizes where five minutes started and/or stopped.

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