Yesterday

Yesterday I was called out of junior high History class to scurry to Lubbock so that our family could welcome my oldest nephew into the world.

He just turned thirty.

Yesterday I excused myself from class at A & M and drove as fast as I could within limits to make it from College Station to San Angelo so that our family could welcome my niece into the world.

She is about to turn twenty-four.

Yesterday we welcomed my sister’s youngest, another sweet nephew into the world. Premature, but you wouldn’t know that now with his towering six-foot plus stance.

He just turned seventeen.

Yesterday, with nerves singing and excitement mounting, we checked into the hospital to welcome our own child into this world. Ten fingers, ten toes. A crown of red hair. A feeling like none other. A gift from God.

She just turned eleven.

Yesterday I received the call that my sister was taking my dad to the emergency room for what we thought was a stroke. Nothing quite prepares you for the words, “It’s not a stroke, it’s a tumor.” A nine- month battle with brain cancer ensued.

We just turned the page on six years without dad.

The days are long, but the years are short.

I’m sitting in a silent house aside from the sound of the washer and dryer humming their merry tune of servitude. As I sit, the yesterdays catch up with me.

Days are blurred with so much stuff. I’m sure there’s a more eloquent phrasing to use, but in the simplest form, it’s true. So. Much. Stuff.

I find myself in need of more simple.

Psalm 90:12, “Teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom” (NIV).

How can I make today count to its fullest as it, too, will soon be my yesterday?

I had a dentist appointment a few weeks ago early in the morning. The morning didn’t start so swell. By the time I got to my hygienist’s chair, I wasn’t in the best mindset. She proceeded to share the wonderful news of a year long mission trip that her son had been blessed to be a part of. My responses to this incredible piece of testimony were best described as lackluster. I left there feeling like I’d gotten it all wrong. The occurrences that had frustrated me that morning lingered in my mind causing my time with her to be marred. On my way to work, I called her. I apologized for not properly greeting and talking with her about the incredible things she shared. I apologized for not being an example of Christ. Because that’s exactly what I wasn’t. I was rushed, clouded by what was, and worried about what would be in the day ahead. What I wasn’t was present.

Teach me to number my days, Father. In the busy, remind me to relentlessly strive to eliminate hurry. Father, help my interactions with others to be stamped with Your presence leaving Your aroma in the wake. Show me anything that can be eliminated or culled from the schedule to lend simplicity. Help me not to overcommit but to commit all of what You green light for me to do to You. Walk with me, Father God, reproving, teaching, and guiding me in accordance with Your will for my life. Teach me to number my days, Father, and cling to Your truth for wise living by Your Spirit’s leading.