Living Life to the Fullest

I was on a major highway early yesterday morning, when I came across a traffic-stopping jam. Thinking it was caused by construction, I was annoyed (you may remember from other posts that I get easily frustrated by ridiculous traffic problems). After about 20 minutes of near-stopped traffic, I finally came upon the cause of the jam...and my annoyance was replaced with melancholy. It was one of the worst accidents I've ever seen. Two cars, both upside down, crushed in such a way that survival seemed almost impossible. The people/bodies were gone by the time I drove past, but the cars sat in their original post-crash positions, a monument to the frailty of life.

This sight put me in a reflective mood for the rest of my drive. It dawned on me that life is fleeting, that things as we know them can change almost instantaneously, that you never know what is coming next around the corner. It made me think of the graveside funeral liturgy in the United Methodist Book of Worship (as best as I remember it): "In the midst of life we are in death. Who will save us? Our help comes from the LORD, the Maker of Heaven and Earth". In the midst of life, we are in death...very true, but we don't generally think about it until life forces us to face up to it.

I'm not really scared of death. In some ways, I am looking forward to it. I cannot wait to see Jesus. To quote a cheesy Christian song from the 90's (which I LOVE): "So I'm waiting for another time and another place, where all my hopes and dreams will be captured with one look at Jesus face". I dream of that day. That doesn't mean I am ready to jump off a building or anything; there is much of this life that I love and would miss desperately. It just means that, when the time comes, I would rather be with Jesus than anywhere else. I think a bigger fear than death, for me, is: What if I was a driver in that accident and I lived? No one escapes unscathed from that kind of accident; life would be forever altered, physically and mentally.

Admittedly, I am a big complainer...not so much to others, but certainly to God. God gets the brunt of all my frustrations in life, which I guess is ok, since He can take it. God gets good stuff from me, too--thanks, praise, appreciation. If I'm honest, though, He probably hears more bad: complaining, arguing, bargaining, lots and lots and lots of questions (most starting with "Why?"). That accident made realize I should be more grateful for what I do have...thankful for the life I've been given, with all its complications and confusion.

I guess that accident should also inspire me to live each day to the fullest. I live pretty fully right now, but could always embrace life and its complex beauty a little more wildly than I do. You know, that whole "live like you are dying" thing. The truth is, we ARE dying...every single one of us. Some day we will breath our last breath; we just don't know when.

This leads me to my problem with the whole idea of "living like you are dying". If I knew I only had 6 months more left to live, I would do things a lot differently than I do now. If I am going to be around for 40 or 50 more years, then I think I am charting a pretty effective course at present.

If given 6 months to live--since I had time to think about this on a long drive yesterday--I would quit my job and sell everything I own. The first thing to go would be any fitness equipment and all exercise videos. I would cash in my retirement. I would take all that money and spend the first 3 months traveling to the parts of the world I have yet to see--maybe even re-visiting places I have already been, but really loved. I would backpack around Europe (because, though I have assets, they would only be enough for a nice backpack and some youth hostels). I would sing on top of the Eiffel tower, touch the Crown Jewels (they would let me, because I'd play the "I'm dying" card), kiss the Blarney Stone, and sit under a tree at C.S. Lewis's house, while re-reading my favorite book of his, "'Til We Have Faces". I would go on safari in Tanzania, take a picture of Victoria Falls, and ride on a boat down the Amazon. I would travel to Australia and sing in an opera chorus at the Sydney Opera House (which they would let me do, again, because I was dying), and then chase after some wild kangaroos, while throwing around random terms like "barbie" and "mate". I would go to China and dance on the Great Wall, then I'd swing over to Bangkok and see the Royal Palace (which I missed while I was there, because I had Buddha's revenge...similar to Montezuma's revenge). I would also buy bags and bags of Thai sticky rice from every street vendor I could find, and eat it until I'd almost explode.

At the end of all my travels, I would spend my remaining 3 months with friends and family, creating memories, and making sure they knew what they meant to me. I would also read the Bible for an hour every day and pray for at least two hours every day...you know, kinda like cramming for finals. It never hurts to be overly prepared, especially for Eternity.

While that would be a great plan if I were given 6 months to live, if I am around for a few more decades, quitting my job and selling all that I have would probably be imprudent. So, I'm not sure you can really "live like you are dying" without endangering the next 40 years or so of life. But I guess we could all be more grateful for the life and time that we do have. We could make sure to say the things that need to be said, right here and right now. We could take more chances, live a little more boldly. And I promise, some day, I am totally going to kiss the Blarney Stone...but I am going to save money and, meanwhile, continue to use my elliptical trainer (but if I get cancer some day, exercise is the FIRST thing to go!).