"Your life can change in an instant. That instant can last forever.” ~Laura Kasischke

Several months ago, I wrote about a book I had read to our girls when they were younger, and I was re-reading it now - "Walk Two Moons" by Sharon Creech.  That day, I focused on the main theme of the book, and how we should "never judge a man until you've walked two moons in his moccasins."  Certainly, a good rule to live by.

I am not doing a book review today.  But I do want to use some passages from this book to help set the stage for sharing something that happened in my life this past weekend, so bear with me . . .

In addition to the "moccasins" theme, four other lessons are impressed upon the main character in "Walk Two Moons" (a young girl named Sal).  One which she is poignantly faced with is that "everyone has his own agenda."  And that is true in life, isn't it?  Sal's mother left her, and at one point as she is reflecting on that, she has these thoughts:  "I started...remembering the day before my mother left.  I did not know it was to be her last day home.  Several times that day, my mother asked me if I wanted to walk up in the fields with her.  It was drizzling outside, and I was cleaning out my desk, and I just did not feel like going.  'Maybe later,' I kept saying.  When she asked me for about the tenth time, I said, 'No!  I don't want to go.  Why do you keep asking me?'  I don't know why I did that.  I didn't mean anything by it, but that was one of the last memories she had of me, and I wished I could take it back... I had my own agenda that day... I couldn't see my own mother's sadness."

Sal also learned that "in the course of a lifetime, what does it matter?"  As she ponders this question, she reaches an important conclusion:  "I wondered about all the things in the course of a lifetime that would not matter.  I did not think cheerleading tryouts would matter, but I was not so sure about yelling at your mother.  I was certain, however, that if your mother left, it would be something that mattered in the whole long course of your lifetime."

In recent years, and as the result of various life experiences, I have tried to apply both of these principles in my own life.  I know that everyone has his own agenda, and while not always 100% successful, I try as best I can to be understanding and sensitive to the agendas of other people, knowing that my own agenda might not always be aligned with theirs.  I also make every effort to keep life in perspective by considering if whatever might be consuming my thoughts and energies will really matter in the course of a lifetime.

Life can change in an instant.  We all know that, and hopefully we live our lives with that truth in mind.  In relationships with the people I love, I make sure I always tell them I love them each time we part, or whenever we end a phone conversation.  I am pretty certain the people I love know that I love them without me having to say that, but what if I've "had my own agenda" that particular day, and haven't been tuned in to theirs?  And what if that encounter becomes the last time I see or talk to them?  In the course of a lifetime, it would matter greatly.

Saturday was a typical day at my house.  The weather was gorgeous, and while I sat in our sunroom finishing up our income tax return, Jeff was outside trimming the shrubs around our swimming pool, to make room for some new plants in those beds.  I was focused on the task at hand, thinking about attending a baby shower later that afternoon, and hopefully spending some time outside later in day.  That's when I heard the sound of the electric hedge trimmers, followed by a loud, panicked yell from my husband.

Jeff - my careful, always safety conscious mate - had slipped, and he had fallen into the swimming pool, fully clothed, iPhone in his pocket, ... and a plugged-in, electric hedge trimmer in his hand.  Suddenly, my agenda changed.  And in the course of a lifetime - in that particular moment - trimmed shrubs, wet iPhones, income tax returns, baby showers, and beautiful spring weather did not matter at all.  My only thought was that the person I love most in this world was in peril.  Thankfully, Jeff made it out of that pool with only a shock, but it made me tremble to consider what easily might have happened in that moment.  My former employer lost an adult son to a similar accident.  When the full weight of what "could have" happened settled in on me, it even made me cry.

I've thought a lot about that moment since Saturday, and how differently my weekend - and my life - would have played out if Jeff had received a bigger shock.  I'm confident that in my relationship with him, I would not have any regrets.  We have built our life together and our marriage upon the principle of never leaving anything left unsaid or unresolved.  And I am also quite confident in where he would spend eternity if he had suddenly left this life Saturday morning when he stepped into that pool.  But my life would've been forever changed.

I'm thankful beyond words that he is ok.  I was thankful when we sat down together and ate dinner, when he held my hand, and when we went together to drive the Azalea Trails later in the evening.  I smiled when his snoring caused me to reach for my ear plugs during the night, and I was even thankful when he left his wet, dirty clothes draped over the bathtub, leaving clods of dirt scattered in the tub.  Because in the course of a lifetime, the mess and the dirt will not matter.  In fact, they are nice reminders to me as I look at them still there today that he is still here today.  I'm also thankful for the reminder of the brevity and uncertainty of life.

So if you see me this week, I hope you find me to be trying to figure out your agenda, and giving mine a backseat with renewed fervency.  Because in the course of lifetime, the only thing that really matters is my love and service to God, and making sure that I treat every encounter I have with the people in my life as if it were my last.

"Beginning today, treat everyone you meet as if they were going to be dead by midnight. Extend to them all the care, kindness and understanding you can muster, and do it with no thought of any reward. Your life will never be the same again."  ~Og Mandino