It was not a slow subtle change. It was rough, scary, and mean. I remember opening presents with the kids, then talking to them and telling them bye. Giving out these last orders from the commander in chief of the household to keep the peace, protect the family, and love one another. I remember the ambulance, watching Nichole trying to keep up with it through the back window, and then the ramp into the hospital. I remembered all the excuses, the promises, the tomorrows.
I remember the isolation, the want of physical touch, the desire to just make it stop. I remembered there were others who wanted me more than I wanted myself, and for them I had to move forward. I had promises to fulfill, excuses to remove, and things to do today. I remember the feeling of so many friends praying, that feeling of peace, and knowing that prayers were being lifted for such a wretch as I.
Yet grace was being given. Love was being shown. Peace was filling me. Eleven days later on January 5th, I was given a new chance. I pray that I have learned and stopped the excuses, and putting off to tomorrow what needed to be today. I know I am still not perfect. However, the God that I serve willing and with all that I am; I know that He is perfect. I know that I have things to get done for Him.
To a degree, somethings don’t seem like they are back to what it was. Who knows, maybe I never will be. If so, so be it. I know that I will be given what I need, when I need it, for His glory.
So men, and ladies, stop promising, making excuses, or putting things off. Live, love, and give like you’re not going to be here tomorrow. Cause you are not promised tomorrow. And time, time keeps on slipping, slipping, slipping…into the future.