I’ve been thinking about how I would spend my last days of life.
Not in the morbid kind of way you might be thinking. Reflective. Repentive. I’ve been reflecting back on my time through infertility, miscarriage, and marriage troubles. While I may have chosen to do things differently had I known then what I know now, I know God knew me as I was and the decisions I would make and worked through that time to pursue me, teach me, and mold me. So I guess I’m sharing this for those who are in the thick of it, and I trust this message will reach the right readers at the right time.
I’ve been thinking about things I said, thought, felt, or did throughout my wait. I imagine adding up all the time I spent doing certain things and moving it to the end of my life, not adding more days, just replacing the ones that are already there waiting for me. Of course, you could do the same thing with the amount of time you spend sleeping, eating, using the bathroom, or performing basic household chores, but I’m not talking about mundane necessities. I’m talking about choices. Would I choose to spend my last days on this earth with the same words, thoughts, feelings, and actions I had once given so much time and energy?
From the day my husband and I decided we were ready to start trying for children to the day we welcomed our first living baby into our arms was 1,281 days.
If I added up all the time I spent ranting at my husband about how unfair it felt that other women didn’t have to go through this, spewing jealousy and discontentment from my mouth into his ears, surely it would be days. Just half an hour of just 48 of those 1,281 days would add up to a full 24 hours of ranting. Surely, I had spent much more time than that. For days of my life, without stopping to eat or sleep, I had spoken death over my marriage, our bodies, our situation, and others’ blessings. Without realizing it, I had made him feel emasculated and had changed in negative a way he thought I could never undo.
Would I be willing to add up all those days and save them for the end of my life? Would I want to lie in my death bed and spend my last few precious moments with my husband in this way? Absolutely not. It sounded exhausting to him then, and it sounds exhausting to me now. What I could have spoken instead were words of life. I could have prayed over myself and my husband. I could have told him how manly he is and how much I appreciated all the ways he protected and provided. I could have told him how much I loved spending time with him. I could have blessed those babies whose timing was perfect and their mothers whose stories I could never know. I could have replaced those late-night, after-work rant sessions with compliments, laughter, and gratitude.
If I added up all the time I spent desperately searching outdated chat boards for answers only God could give and time could reveal, it might have been weeks. Would I be willing to take those weeks out of their current places in my timeline and trade them for the final weeks of my life? Poor eyesight and arthritic fingers aside, that sounds awful. What could I have done in a few weeks’ time? I could have made things– poems or pillows. I could have sung more, danced more, prayed more, worshipped more. I could have poured life into the hearts of friends and strangers alike. I could have given life to others just as passionately as I wanted to receive it myself.How would you want to spend your last days? What would you spend them saying, thinking, feeling, or doing, and who would you choose to do it all with? Don’t wait. Start now. Click To Tweet
Would I have spent weeks of my life researching and learning about health and nontoxic living? Probably, but only if I had the chance to share it! Would I have spent my final hours calculating all my possible, varying due dates? Nope. Would I have gone on that cruise? Yes, absolutely! I would have gone on more cruises without considering whether or not I might be pregnant, how far along I might be by the time the ship set sail, or whether we might have to cancel our trip because of it.
I don’t know what you’re currently waiting for or struggling with. I don’t know how long it’s been since your wait started or how long you will have to continue waiting for that elusive desire to manifest. I do know that as long as you are on this Earth, there is a purpose for you. Each day is worth living. Only you have the power to take that away.
A note on feelings
Your feelings are yours, and they are valid. You get to feel whatever you feel for as long as you need to feel it. But are you feeling them longer than that? Are you feeling them, naming them, and processing through them, or are you letting them stay there? Are you letting them transform your thoughts and perspective and rule your actions? Are you dwelling in them or even relishing in them? Yeah, that was me.
We get in this comfort zone that actually isn’t so comfortable. It’s this familiar territory where bad habits spring, grow, and thrive. It says, “This is who I am, and this is how I feel, and that’s it.” It starts to define us. You are not your grief or your jealousy or your anger or your fear. Those negative feelings do not have to have a hold on you or your relationships. What feelings are dictating your life? Which ones do you want to give more time and energy?
How would you want to spend your last days? What would you spend them saying, thinking, feeling, or doing, and who would you choose to do it all with? Don’t wait. Start now.