I wrote a post for today. And I was passionate about the topic, and wrote fluidly and clearly.
I scheduled it to publish at 8:30 this morning. And then an hour after arriving at work a colleague came running. “You’re a nurse? Come quick, we need you.”
I am not a clinical nurse, I’m a public health nurse/educator. But God gives grace for the moment and emergency mode went into high gear. Pulse taking, cold compresses, sitting on the ground with a woman I’d never met, waiting for the ambulance. It’s minutes that count. It’s moments that change lives.
And all of it? It’s all borrowed. These bodies, these lives – they’re borrowed, we don’t own any of it.
I stop by a colleague/friend’s desk afterwards, both of us usually gregarious at this time of day, laughing about our families and their (our) flaws. Known as the loudest in the office, we talk quietly. She was at the emergency room last night with a father-in-law. They talked options with a doctor. They talked ‘end of life’, ‘resuscitation’, ‘medication’, – it was hospital speak.
“It’s all borrowed” she said. “We think we’re living better but we’re really living more. We want more this, more that – even the good times we want more of them. More house, more vacation, more money. If we were living better, we’d recognize this borrowed time, borrowed life. But we’ve confused better with more.”
A friend posts on Facebook that a bomb went off in Kabul. Across town. They are not hurt – but their friends have windows blown out of their homes, and for sure people have died.
Nothing to wake you up on Tuesday like realizing it’s all borrowed.
And I think about how careful I am when I borrow something from someone. I care for it. I use it wisely. I bring it back. I repay it.
What will I do with my life today? What will you do with your life today?
Because it’s all borrowed.
“You are not your own. You were bought with a price. Therefore, Honor God with your bodies” 1 Corinthians 19b,20