Numbering our days

I've been following the story of two classmates of mine, Chad and Ryan Arnold, from Oral Roberts University. You can read their story here.

It's a heartbreaking story.  One brother was dying.  His younger brother offered to be a living liver donor (the liver regenerates, so it can be split between the donor and the recipient).  The surgery went well for the receiving brother, but the donor died a few days later. 

As I was scrolling through the comment section I was amazed at some of the terrible things people wrote.  That it was a waste of life, and selfish of the donating brother (he left behind a wife and three small children).

I was shocked.  Because none of us is promised even one more breath.  This life is a vapor, a wisp, and it will be gone for every single one of us before we know it.  Unless we are the generation that takes the Great Commission to all peoples and the Lord returns, we will all taste death.

Ryan Arnold gave his life for his brother.  He did not know he would die, but he knew it was a real risk.  And he chose to act sacrificially.  My death could be meaningless.  I could get hit by a runaway car walking to the mailbox in the morning.  And it would just be a tragic accident.  No one would get a second chance at life.


My point here is not to be maudlin.  It is to say that we would be wise to ask God, like the psalmist, for the wisdom to "number our days aright."  We don't know when "that day" will be for any of us.  But we know it is coming, sure as sunrise follows the night. 

We might not get the chance to witness to that co-worker again.  To hug that child or make that phone call or right that wrong.  To forgive that hurt or take that first step of faith.  So let us all live every day as if it is our last.