Here Today, Gone Tomorrow

I had my bi-annual visit with my oncologist today. Regardless of the fact that there is no poking or prodding being done, despite the fact that I really do like to sit and chat with him, the knowledge that I even have to return to the site where I was treated for cancer causes a physical reaction. This is not uncommon. However, that knowledge does not make it go away either. Perhaps in the long run it is good that I remember for remembering serves to remind me of these words:

How do you know what your life will be like tomorrow? Your life is like the morning fog--it's here a little while, then it's gone.

James 4:14 (NLT)

I do not believe one can fully comprehend the reality of this until they have truly faced the possibility that they could very well die not "some day" but in a relatively short time and while doctors may scramble to lengthen that time, the reality is... well... you realize that life truly is a vapor. You're here today and gone tomorrow. I know, we don't like to think about that but sometimes... we don't have much choice.

I am a cancer survivor. I am cancer-free as far as they can tell, but at the same time everyone is fully aware that I might have a time-bomb within me, waiting until the right moment to go off. I really learned about time-bombs nearly two years ago. You might say I had one go off in my head for without any warning whatsoever, I nearly died in my sleep on a cold December night. I had plans for the next day but those plans never materialized. I was supposed to get up, get ready for work, eat breakfast, drive to school, teach second graders, do a fun art project, come home, fix supper and start decorating for Christmas. The Christmas decorations never got put up at my house that year. They would have to wait until December 2010.

I have a really good oncologist. He listens to and acknowledges my fears. He doesn't dismiss them and tell me I'll never have to face cancer again. I have heard that some oncologist do this. I am glad mine does not. I prefer him to be an optimistic realist... like myself.

Today, he listened to me. He didn't laugh, tell me not to be foolish, morbid or anything like that. Instead, he acknowledged that what I was saying was true. Cancer may strike again and then again, it may not. In any event, he told me to live life fully. I have a term for that. I call it "living well".

I do not know whether my next breath will be my last but then again, neither do any of us. Truly our life in this world is like the morning fog which can quickly burn away in an instant. We are here today and gone tomorrow; will we leave behind a legacy which will continue on? A legacy of a life which impacted those around us for Christ? Have we lived well so that we might hear those words spoken by God, "Well done"?

Let us live our lives to the fullest in Jesus Christ! Let us not be filled with regrets at that end of our lives rather let us rejoice that we have been faithful even unto death! Let us all "live well."


K :princess:

Joyce Bethy Ferguson @bethy ·

Amen my friend, amen .

Isn't it good when someone just listens.

Kenneth Figurelli @bibleguy64 ·

My wife is in a similar situation, and I know what you mean about having to view the future in much shorter times spans. - bibleguy64

Nikki Brown @nikkibrown ·

I'm so glad you have an oncologist who listens and actually seems to care. Most doctors just treat you like a number.
I pray that this cancer does not come back into your body and that you never have to go through this sickness again!
[quote]Let us live our lives to the fullest in Jesus Christ! Let us not be filled with regrets at that end of our lives rather let us rejoice that we have been faithful even unto death! Let us all "live well."[/quote]
Amen Amen! :clap:
Glory be to God!

May God bless you always!