"But encourage one another daily, as long as it is called Today..." Hebrews 3:13 (NIV)
As I sat with Dad in his hospital room, I realized that it would be the last day I had with him. He was just so sick. The cancer had run its course for two and a half years. Desperate sickness. Emergency calls. Countless hospitalizations. Painful, debilitating treatments.
My family and I watched a vibrant, outdoorsman reduced to tube feeding.
It's enough to tear your heart out.
He had put a non-resuscitation order (NRO) in place so that we wouldn't have to make the tough choice of turning off machines. He didn't want to be hooked up to them in the first place. Dad just wanted to go in peace.
We were grateful for the NRO. But I didn't expect to be in the room when it went into effect. To watch the doctors and nurses do nothing when Dad flat lined. To hear myself scream at them, "Why are you just standing there?!? Do something!!!"
I wanted him to finally rest, to be with Jesus, but I didn't want to let him go. In those final moments, he couldn't communicate past the breathing tube, but his eyes said it all.
I plan to visit Dad's grave at Houston's National Cemetery this weekend (that's his marker above). As I schedule my time for that trip, I'm reminded of the priceless treasure of TODAY.
Because, really, that's all the time we've been given right now.
So, how will you use the gift of today?