Itâ€™s becoming increasingly clearÂ the last couple of years – the time I have left to live is less than the time I have lived (coming up on age 70, fifteen months from now will do that). In light of my musings (more like distress) about traveling this final leg of my earthly journey, I stumbled upon the poem, â€œHelp Me to Believe in Beginningsâ€ by Ted Loder, Â from his book, â€œGuerillaâ€™s of Graceâ€.
Beginnings? are you kidding me, when right now,Â it seems like the beginning of an ending?
The following words in my journal from a couple weeks ago are shared below: Â (Highlighting is mine.)
Â “Help me to believe in beginnings
Â Â to make a beginning
Â Â Â Â Â to be a beginning,
so that I may not just grow old
Â Â Â Â Â Â but grow new
each day of this wild, amazing life
Â Â Â Â Â you call me to live
with the passion of Jesus Christ.”
“Help Me to Believe in Beginnings” Â Ted Loder, from Guerrillas of Grace:Â Â
How can I think of
a blink of an eyeÂ is
a month passed,
a lightning strike,
a year flown by.
when it feels like the
Choosing to focus on
the time I have
the time I don’t
is a choice.
Most days I make this choice.
Some days the choice is elusive.
Today is one of those days.