It's strange that it's friday night and the first real chance I've had to sit down and have a little peace and quiet. My roommate is out of town for the weekend so I have my own room for a change which feels very odd. Not that a house of fifty girls is ever quiet for long. This blog is going to be rant and joke free, so if that's what you're looking for come back another day. I wanted to write about something that I actually have been thinking about off and on for the past few weeks.
A week or so ago, I found out that a girl in my sorority's brother had died. He went to my high school and was only a year older than me. While I never met him and only briefly knew his sister, I attended the funeral. Funerals are never easy, but there is something about funerals for people my age that hits so close to home. The ceremony reminded me how many funerals I have been to for people my age or close to my age, and I'm fairly certain I have been to more funerals for teenagers than older people. A month or so ago, I found out that another girl from my high school's older brother was diagnosed with lymphoma. He is only 21. When I found this out, I couldn't focus on the reading I needed to be doing or the homework yet unfinished. I have never met this guy, but I completely stopped in my tracks at the thought of someone my age being diagnosed with cancer. Things like this aren't supposed to happen to people our age, and both of these young men have been described as being so full of life and so vibrant. The contemplation of the end always leads me to wonder, when I die, will I have accomplished everything I want to? Will I have lived life to the full, will I be proud of the choices I've made? None of these are particularly easy questions to answer, and none of them are particularly comforting. But, they are, in their own way helpful. These questions remind us to attempt things in spite of the fear of failure, to do something rather than just sitting around wasting time.
As the young man whose funeral I attended said, "The only way to keep the candle from going out is to outrun the wind."
I think this is a fantastic quote, and, though I didn't know him, I feel like I gained a small glimpse into his passion and his love for life. I always find it interesting to see how God places little things in your life that stick with you. Two thursdays ago at Breakaway, Ben Stuart talked about the end (death) and The End (revelation and the end of the world). One of the verses he focused on was 1 Thessalonians 4:13 which says "And now, dear brothers and sisters, we want you to know what will happen to the believers who have died so you will not grieve like people who have no hope." (NLT). The part of this verse that stuck with me the most was "so you will not grieve like people who have no hope." I had to look up the entire verse again because that was the only part of the verse that has been playing over and over in my mind. It isn't one of those normal clichés that people quote at you. It doesn't tell you not to grieve, it says that it is ok and normal to grieve, but that, even through your sorrow you have hope. I have been slowly realizing how important hope is just in general, but especially in dealing with hard times.
So, after waxing somewhat philosophical, I leave you with another verse that got me through my freshman year.
2 Corinthians 4:16 Therefore, we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are fading away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day.
No comments:
Post a Comment