Living as the Last

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Both sermons on Sunday were about preparing for the end. You’ve heard it too, I don’t know how you wouldn’t whatever your persuasion spiritually. Lay up treasures beyond here, house in order, peace with God.

I look around my Monday today and it feels different, despite the weekend clean up being the same. The sights and smells are the same. The stale coffee that once was rich aroma early in the morning is now the kitchen needing a final wipe down. Etcetera.

What if this were my last Monday. It very well could be. In an effort to damper your curiosity, I’ll suggest that it could be your last also. If it were, would you live any differently? I might go for a morning walk at 6:30 in the morning, take a relaxing shower, get dressed and put on my make up before the kids woke up, if I had the strength. I’d dress them in whatever they wanted and let them eat whatever they’d want. In a dream world they’d clean up without being asked. Their smiles would be bright and there wouldn’t be an argument all morning. They’d take afternoon naps, even the ones who are too old to. They’d wake up refreshed and continue to have an interactive, positive day following late afternoon snack. In fact, they’d be so well behaved that I could focus on laundry organizing, ironing and putting away without negative interruption. My husband would come home and admire the obviously glorious day that we had just shared. Continuing this dream, I’d live my last with a nutritious satisfying meal that no one had to be prompted to finish. The kids would fall asleep on time with a bath and one bed time story each. Nicely tucked in to clean sheets and smelling of toothpaste and dove shampoo that would be the close to what would content me forever.

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Perhaps living a day for a last is not so far away from living life so that it will last.

The greatest fear for a mother is that if she were to leave her family by death, what would appear to be unseasonably, how and by who would life to be carried on by.

Those are the thoughts that danced through my head Sunday and drift into my Monday though it is now on into this next days afternoon.

The answer, as inconclusive as it is, is that in each day that I or you are given should be all together an effort to teach your children how to live without you. And that requires deep involvement. Hold their hand while you can, show them how to dress and how to tie so that they will not need you to do those things. Teach them how to brush their teeth and how to comb their hair, so that they will be able to wake and face that day without you, when the time come.

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Oh gosh, don’t let them think it’s normal to drink milk from a bowl! Not like that anyway.

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