A tragic incident occurred recently on one of the major thoroughfares traversing our state, leaving in its wake twisted metal and mangled lives. Sixty travelers were rushed to local hospitals due to their injuries, but the most devastating news was that five souls had lost their lives on that fateful morning, regular people like me, folks simply going about their jobs, or traveling across my gorgeous state on vacation, unaware that they were on the brink of eternity. But what convicted my heart the most was the fact that truck drivers were killed, professional men who worked for the same company that had employed my husband for more than forty years. He had donned that same uniform as those victims for decades, traveled dangerous roads, endured some close calls, had his vehicle damaged in accidents caused by the negligence of others, but with one huge difference…he always came home.
I turned off the network coverage that morning and did some deep soul searching, pondering the fragility of life. To be sure, hindsight, the perception of the nature of an event after it has happened, is a wonderful knowledge that unfortunately kicks in a bit too late. I thought back on the many years that my hubby walked out of the door every morning, facing another routine-filled day behind the wheel of his truck, faithfully fulfilling his God-given responsibility of supporting his family. But how many mornings did he leave on a bad note, mornings that we were sparring, having a marital spat, or the children were experiencing a rough start, leaving everyone’s nerves frayed? How often did he leave without hearing I love you, or enjoying a peck on the cheek, some tangible token of my deep love, affection, and appreciation? How often was he relieved to leave a home that housed a contentious wife? Those thoughts burned deeply in my heart today as I pondered the fact that, due solely to God’s grace, he always came home, and perhaps I took that for granted. I can’t imagine the calls those wives endured on this dreadfully dark morning: Your husband has been in an accident; I’m sorry, he isn’t coming home.
The Scriptures abound with exhortations concerning the brevity of life. Our days are “as a shadow that passeth away; a vapor that appeareth for a little time, and then vanisheth away; as the flower of grass,” that “falleth away.” As a result, we certainly need to “number our days,” because we have no clue as to what “a day may bring forth.” If I could have a redo, I would NEVER allow my attitude to be snippy when my husband left for work in the morning. Instead I would transform that snippy time into time spent on my knees, thanking God for that wonderful man.
Proverbs 27:1 Boast not thyself of tomorrow; for thou knowest not what a day may bring forth.
Lord, You tell us to number our days. Help me to appreciate those dear ones in my life, those blessing You have given me. Help me never to take them for granted.<div class='sharedaddy sd-block sd-like jetpack-likes-widget-wrapper jetpack-likes-widget-unloaded' id='like-post-wrapper-164683012-2591-6513c92dab9e7' data-src='https://widgets.wp.com/likes/#blog_id=164683012&post_id=2591&origin=grandmasgleanings.com&obj_id=164683012-2591-6513c92dab9e7' data-name='like-post-frame-164683012-2591-6513c92dab9e7' data-title='Like or Reblog'><h3 class="sd-title">Like this:</h3><div class='likes-widget-placeholder post-likes-widget-placeholder' style='height: 55px;'><span class='button'><span>Like</span></span> <span class="loading">Loading...</span></div><span class='sd-text-color'></span><a class='sd-link-color'></a></div>