So they committed themselves to the will of God and resolved to proceed.
Pilgrim Bradford’s quote rested prominently on my office desk for more than a decade. Whenever I found myself in an ‘impossible’ situation or faced with a trial far too much to bear, my eyes would inevitably fall to this simple sentence. Deep breath, thankfulness for the provision of a real-life example and step forward in trust that God would see me through.
I live with a mountain of regrets. My ‘pile’ is comprised mostly of things I said that I shouldn’t have said. There are several things I did as well, but those items are mercifully few.
My ‘Mt. Regret’
would be far higher and broader if I had not learned a life-principle many decades ago while still a young man. I wish I knew from where I acquired this diamond, (e.g. respected counselor, book, personal observation) but I can assure you it is not self-generated. ‘The Last Time’ principle is woven into who I am. I’ve already shared my preoccupation with time and timekeepers, so I guess I was predisposed to grasp this idea early and apply it immediately.
Many, when faced with the death of someone close, or some near-death experience will often encourage others to expressions of love to those to whom they are most close. The Last Time principle is similar, but more pedestrian.
Every action we take, every choice we make, every word we utter, bears the possibility and weight of being The Last Time. Those actions and choices and words, big or small, make an impact we cannot control. Consider first: this may be the Last Time.
I remember one well-known example of this principle in play. There was a professional basketball player named Kermit Washington. He was well-liked and well-spoken of by both his teammates and competitors. During a 1977 basketball game, a scuffle broke out on the court and Kermit uncharacteristically and half-blindly threw a punch. It wasn’t particularly vicious, the damage to the recipient shouldn’t have been devastating, but it was. It nearly killed a man Mr. Washington bore no particular animus and ruined what was a promising career.
When Michelle and I married, The Last Time principle was easy to apply to our marriage. I cataloged our experiences together as if it were the last time and allowed that reality to impact how I loved and led Michelle.
- Every hand held, is this the last time?
- Every argument, is this the last time?
- Every celebration, is this the last time?
- Every chore, is this the last time?
- Every lovemaking, is this the last time?
- Every obstacle faced, is this the last time?
- Every object built together, is this the last time?
- Every season we mourned together, is this the last time?
- Every memory made with family, is this the last time?
- Every hour in a shared life, pleasant or unpleasant, is this the last time?
I shared in my last post that the plea for a lesser miracle appears to be receiving a ‘no’ answer. I think I may be despondent if I had not learned and lived The Last Time principle. Surely my ‘Mt. Regret’ would be the ‘Regret Mountain Range.’ Be not deceived, I have ignored the principle plenty along the way. Fortunately, such sins are more the exception than the rule and I have a mountain of Last Times to cherish, accumulated these past 41 years of relationship.
Michelle and I shared a passionate kiss yesterday in between her pain-riddled awake time and her drug-induced sleep. It was the first opportunity enjoy such an exchange in a while. She looked me full in the face as she smiled her precious and sweet smile and said, ‘Thank you for such a great gift.’
Packaged and treasured as possible Last Time.
I’ve been blessed to stay at her side continually these past weeks, even now as we are no longer able to remain at our home. I wait to see whether I will witness the first breath of her healing or the final breath of her journey Home.
In either case, I will continue to live as if this were The Last Time.
