Just Passin' Through

Life is temporary, but we don't think on it often.  Many life stages, of course, we know are of a set duration.  College won't last forever (probably).  The kids will mature (hopefully).  That job won't last forever (though it may feel like it).  Yes, many things have definitive ends, and we know that going in.  The thing I tend to forget is that our overall lives are the same- they, like the individual stages of which they are composed, will end.  That fact has been emphasized to me recently- this idea of temporary.

It's not just our lives; our surroundings, too, are ever changing.  As our things traverse the Atlantic, we've been staying with my parents, in my childhood home.  Returning here has affected me in ways I didn't expect.  My old stomping grounds have changed.  Homes have been updated, schools have been renovated, playgrounds decayed, stores built, and familiar haunts demolished.  Familiar faces have moved, died, grown up, or been ravaged by debilitating illness.  A cherished college mentor sits in a home, afflicted by Alzheimer's and no longer able to recognize most.  A once-strapping neighbor has been destroyed by a blood disease; I see his now-wiry frame hobbling down the street once a day for his exercise.  A friend's mother just passed away from cancer.  In general, as I look around my neighborhood, I marvel at what now is, reflect on what once was, and inevitably focus on the fact that the future will bring more change.  Not just our lives, but everything here is temporary- even that childhood environment I took for granted.

Our recent overseas tours were temporary, and we knew that at the start.  That fact was in our minds frequently, and here's the point: it changed how we lived.  We explored more- because we had only a few years to do it.  We traveled, soaked in the culture, tried new foods, and enjoyed the experience- because we knew it would one day be beyond reach, relegated to fond memories.  The end was always in sight.  Then, last month, it was all over.  We returned home, and have been looking for a house, car, and a new 'normal' ever since.  I've caught myself being more anxious this time around, because it feels permanent.  Lord and employer willing, I can work at my present job for the next 30 years.  Gone is the sense of transience; I feel every decision is supremely important, because it could dictate our future for decades.  But here's the thing: I should always have that sense of 'temporary' in my mind, because one day, this stage- and my life in this world- will end. 

How does this truth change things for me?  For you?  That's another topic for another time- answers will vary based on worldview, and exploring them all is beyond the scope of this post.  For now, I'll just say this: I suggest that our response to this reality- this fragile and perishing existence- should not be one of rampant consumption, nor one of resigned indifference.  We do have a purpose here- a calling.  Make your life count- we're just passing through.