(a fictional account)
I’ve decided to keep it secret. My doctor knows, of course, but decision is mine on whether or not to communicate it. I do this not out of ego but because of my nature. I have no doubt that friends and family would converge on me with sincere concern and my wife would be my deep well of encouragement and love. However, I am unused to this type of focus in this type of venue even though it would be a genuine outpouring of love tinged by sadness. No; I’ve determined to tell no one. My wife, God bless her, will be the first to suspect and will probably figure it out. If directly asked, I would tell her but she knows me so well that I’m sure she’ll notice the aberrations in my routines.
I’ve played this game so many times – what would I do if I only have 30 days to live? Faced with that very real prospect, though, I never imagined I would be waking up singing “This is the day that the Lord has made” in my mind. It is doubtful that anyone could sing this little chorus with a dour face. For me, I was reminded of Who is exactly in control here. I realize that I don’t have 30 days to live … He’s given me 30 days to live.
Our pastor encouraged us to live passionately. His examples were extreme and I couldn’t see myself in those shoes … until now. Passion is the heat in the fire. People rarely gather around a campfire to get cold. It is the heat from the campfire that binds the campers, lights up the faces, evokes the telling of stories and, in the end, repels the chill in the air. In the coldness often associated with life, it is passion that binds, lights, evokes and repels the night.
It is day 30 and today will be a day of passion.