If you follow me on social media, you will often see the hashtag, #teachmetonumbermydays. It is one of my go-to verses in scripture. I try to begin each day with the reminder, my days are numbered; let me use them well.
Numbering your days is seasonal in our lives. When we are children and teens, we can’t wait to grow up and be adults. Upon reaching adulthood, we all hit a moment where we realize “adulting” is hard. We always thought that when we were adults, no one would tell us what to do and we could make our own decisions. We thought we had all the time in the world. You couldn’t have convinced us otherwise. You are probably “lol” at that remark. I am smiling as I type this. Yeah right…
Adulting is making decisions that affect others, living up to responsibilities and navigating our fast-paced, chaotic life. We live in the busiest time in civilization. We have no downtime where we are not connected to others via technology. We often are dependent on two salaries because of economics and often we are living away from our extended family. When I was as a young mother; I was halfway across the country from my in-laws. My parents had died and I had three babies in four years. My husband was coaching and spent long hours away from our nest. I remember the long days and nights. I have read a quote that summarized it well about parenting small children, “the days are long but the years are swift.” It is so very true.
Satan uses the busyness of our days to blind us of what is important. Busyness robs us of our sense of eternity.
When our oldest was three, my mother would often “sneak” him Skittles. I say sneak because I was adamant that he not have sugary treats. Yes…he was the firstborn. My third child’s first food was cinnamon crisps from Taco Bell at four months. Yes, I know…but I digress. Bobby and I would often take Mom aside and share our superior child-rearing intellect with her. We were 23 years old and knew all about raising kids. (tongue-in-cheek) Somehow every few weeks, Jarod would end up with few Skittles from the candy dish at Grandmas. The conversation would continue.
Around six months later, I lost Mom and Dad in a tragic car wreck. I have shared some of those memories in previous blogs. Jarod spent four weeks in traction from the ceiling at the hospital and four months in a body cast. A visitor from church came by the hospital with a goodie bag. It contained a large bag of Skittles. Bob and I burst into tears. Over the past thirty years, my husband and I have longed to rectify our youthful mistake. I smile when I see one of my nine grandchildren with a bag of Skittles. I like to think my mom is smiling down on their choice of snacks.
Bags of Skittles are deeply ingrained in my theology. They taught me to number my days and see what is truly important.
Our days are numbered. The Bible says, “Man’s days are determined; you (God) have decreed the number of his months and have set limits he cannot exceed” (Job 14:5). HE alone knows. We have no idea what will happen to us. We only are promised WHO will be holding us in the palm of HIS hand. Let us as a people with an unimaginable beautiful future in Christ Jesus, take hold of each day and use it fully. Let us number our days and see what is truly important. Let us live our lives as wayfaring people on our way home. It is our job here to serve and share as we head home. Enjoy the Skittles on your way home. Maranatha! Jayme
#shelteredingrace
