I love the sky. I love its many moods, and I love watching how its light changes with the rising and setting of the sun, and how its own colour casts shadows on the earth below.
My desk faces into the east, and into my back yard. This is an older neighbourhood, full of stately maples. We have a huge one in our yard which provides privacy, but as the sun rises, I can see snatches of light peeking through its branches. Yesterday, when I looked up from my book, I could see a brilliant orange coming through. I immediately got up and got my camera, because I knew an orange that brilliant indicated a lovely sunrise.
The clouds were soft, and ripple-like. I put my sandals on and went out in between my house and my neighbour's house, in the wet grass, to take a few pictures.
I think I took about eight in all, and was out there for less than five minutes. When I got back into the yard and closed the gate, the light had already faded, again changing the colour. There have been times in the winter when the sun comes up and I want to take a picture, and by the time I grab my coat, the moment is gone.
When I got back inside, I thought of how fast the light changes. And then I thought that our lives are like that in the face of eternity, fleeting. As children, our lives feel so slow at times, but as we age, things go so fast. When we contemplate it, we see what a mere breath our lives are.
We think we have time, so we put things off. Perhaps it's restoring a fractured relationship, or getting involved with that bible study we've heard about, or helping with a ministry at our church, or even visiting an elderly neighbour. I know people who have stopped attending church. They say they love the Lord, but it's been years since they darkened the door, and it's all becuase they're offended and bitter. We think we have time to get right with God, to take him seriously, to learn about him. But maybe we don't have that time.
Psalm 90:12 is one of my favourite verses in the Psalms:
So teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom.
I love the connection between evaluating our lives and the outcome of gaining wisdom. If we don't know we're a vapor, I don't see how wisdom will come very easily.
This is still a verse for all of us. We will not be here forever. A year ago at this time, my husband's best friend from high school, and the man who was best man at our wedding, died suddenly at the age of 53, leaving three teenagers and a wife. That could be me or it could be you. Our lives are brief and just like that perfect moment to take a picture passes quickly, so do our opportunities. Let's make the most of them now to learn of God, to love him, to serve him and to proclaim his name.