Life On The "Dash"

"How do you know what your life will be like tomorrow? Your life is like the morning fog — it’s here a little while, then it’s gone."

(James 4:12, NLT)

I filled in the final date on that image today. We'd been waiting for "that call" since last weekend and it finally came. 92+ years seems like a long "dash" when you consider it from a mortal perspective. She lost her husband over 33 years ago. She's watched two sons die before her. There were nine of us kids in total, 19 grand kids (plus a couple that never saw life on Earth), and the fourth generation (and beyond) gets hard to count.

Yet, in the bigger perspective of things, those years are like the morning fog James described. And now Mom is experiencing eternity, drawing fresh, full breaths in an already renewed body. She left what we think of as life this morning, and is now at the beginning of LIFE!

And, yes, I firmly believe she has seen Dad for the first time in three decades. I'd say there's pretty clear indication of that type of reunion. While we may like to project what that looked like, embracing my brothers Mike and Steve in their whole state, I also wrote about that another time and don't believe she really has any thought for what she left behind. They are all just a little awed to be in the Presence together. It's what we hope for, isn't it?

I was out on errands today twice and saw two reminders of the cyclical nature of things. The first, before Mom died, was the wheat fields. They are starting to turn. They've got tracks in them from that tall, skinny-wheeled tractor. It won't be long until the combines sweep through followed by the rectangle balers.

The second was round hay bales. There's just something about them that makes me smile. And they appear almost as if by magic, marking each cutting cycle of the local hay. I even saw one crew offloading them from a trailer, but many more sit in the field where just a few days ago the hay lay cut and flattened on the ground. Such is the cycle of things where I live. I actually got to see them made in the field behind us one year - very fun to watch.

Mom left her Crooked Path life on the dash when she stamped May 16, 2020 on the right side of it. I'm sure it now seems like a fleeting memory given what she's experiencing. For my siblings, my family, and I - we continue on our own dashes. And they are Crooked, though they may look straight at first. That's how God intends life to happen. And today, he took another permanent resident to their final Home. I'm sad, but I'm okay with that. And it's giving me pause to think about life again - a fleeting life "on the dash" that is a gift given for me to use.

I love you, Mom. Glad you are finally Home.