Redeeming the Time

Have you ever noticed that older people have a tendency to mock inexperience and youth? I chalk it down to rank jealousy of my.. I mean... OUR dashing good looks, and our sharp young minds that are as yet not dulled by the ravages of time. That, and we are better at the meaningful things of life, such as X-Box.

In their obviously biased character sketches of young people, they often say things like, "Those whippersnappers think they are indestructible!" Much as I hate to validate the old fogie types, they might actually have a point. Yes, I said it. Don't worry, they'll probably forget their point before they have time to rub it in!

But in all seriousness, I don't think that it is that we actually believe that we will never die, but we have an inflated case of "Finals Syndrome". Less discplined people than myself will recognize this symptom: you are given a huge assignment at the beginning of the school year. Your first reaction to the explanation of the requirements is a feeling of a crushing weight about to drop on your head, as you contemplate how LONG it will take to finish it. This feeling is immediately relieved, as the teacher then tells you that you have the ENTIRE SCHOOL YEAR to finish it! The fog of impending doom is lifted, as your mind pushes the urgency of the task to a recess of your brain so neglected that even the cobwebs have cobwebs on them. Life then resumes its previous state of bliss, with the most pressing concern being, "I wonder if Hungry Howies still has that $5 large pizza deal?"

As the year presses on, the dread tries to push its way back to the forefront, only to be suppressed. After all, you still have plenty of time! Eventually, you reach the time when you realize that if you start now with a normal amount of work and study, the assignement will be done exactly on time. A very brief period of haphazard and easily distracted work ensues, until the next phase is reached: beads of cold sweat appear on your brow as you think something along these lines: "Holy shnikeys. I am toast." You now know that only a frenzied effort that would put a Viking berserker to shame will result in the assignment being sufficient for a passing grade.

And yes, I know what you are thinking. "If he is one of the disciplined types, how is he so familiar with this syndrome?" Well, maybe I am particularly observant and insightful, ever think of that?

I think we all know this syndrome pretty well, and it is bad enough when it applies only to academia, but at some point in this the rubber does meet the road. That point for me was this past week at work. I work for a Senior Management company, and I transport elderly patients. One lady at the assisted living facility, Beverly, made a habit of chatting with me every time I was there. Some days she was lucid, some less so, but she always recognized me for some reason. I put it down to another syndrome: "Stare at the big ugly guy" syndrome.

One evening I was in her room installing a new bed for her, and I happened to glance at her bookshelf, and saw that it was full of books on Catholicism. Many of them were about Mary, the rosary, etc. I thought, "Maybe I should try to talk to her about the Lord...", but I figured, hey, I've got plenty of time.

The next day, I was sent to the hospital to drop off her things, because she had had a major stroke. When I saw her, it broke my heart. This sweet little lady could no longer speak, walk, or even eat by herself. The doctor said that her mind was probably gone for good. As I took her back to the facility, I looked at the shattered shell that still held her soul, and realized that her choice was irrevocably made. Even though she was still alive, she was living dead. She would never again have the chance to accept Christ and be reconciled to God. My choice was also made. I chose not to tell her. I chose not to try. I decided that it wasn't important enough at the time, and hey, I HAD TOMORROW!!!


We are not promised tomorrow. We are not even promised the rest of today. God give us young and old alike a sense of urgency about what we are left on this earth to do! I know that most of this little story is light and funny, but this is not. Beverly's eternity is not.
Col 4:3 Withal praying also for us, that God would open unto us a door of utterance, to speak the mystery of Christ, for which I am also in bonds: Col 4:4 That I may make it manifest, as I ought to speak. Col 4:5 Walk in wisdom toward them that are without, redeeming the time.