Life Is As Long As Hope

Last night I got some bad news on the phone from Mom. I could tell as soon as I picked up and heard her voice that something wasn't right. I asked her what was wrong and she paused and started to tell me and then started crying...

Last summer Dale's sister Debbie was diagnosed w/ breast cancer. It came as quite a shock but she went through chemo and then a couple months ago, had surgery. We thought things were looking up. Then lately she'd been in a lot of pain but thought it might be due to a recent fall she had. She went in for some tests and at first the doctors wouldn't tell her anything. Then yesterday the bombshell dropped. She has bone cancer and they don't give her any chance of surviving. She asked them "bottom line, how much time do I have left?" and they wouldn't even give her an answer. It's pretty bad. Last night my emotions ranged from shock to sadness to anger to wanting to forget that I had ever heard those words from Mom. Needless to say the family is pretty devastated. Prayers would be much appreciated. Below is a poem that my friend Diego called to my attention from the textbook in our Gospel of John class. It was encouraging to me to be reminded of it. (The book is "Journey of Faith: Walking With Jesus Through the Gospel of John" by Bruce McLarty and the poem is by Dr. Michael G. Justus)

How Long Is This Life?

How long is this life?
It is the space from one heart beat to the next.
It is as long as the eternal second needed to say, "I do".

Life is measured in the months needed to grow a baby in the womb.
...the hours of labor to deliever an infant.
...the years to raise a secure adolescent.
...the emotional seconds of saying good-bye to a young adult.
...the lonely minutes of laying to rest an exhausted parent.

Life is counted from one Christmas morning to the next in the heart of a child and from one family reunion to the next in the heart of a parent.

It is gauged by the spread of contagious laughter and by the time it takes a swelling tear to slip to the tip of the chin.

It is valued by the exhilarating moments of free-flight between the release of the rope and the chill of the creek below.

It is measured by the number of anxious rings before a wife answers the phone and by the number of smiles a husband saves for his family at the end of the day.

Life is as brief as the stroke of a gavel, punctuating the sentence of conviction, and as long as the gift, "I forgive".

Rather than asking, "How long is this life?" perhaps, we should ask, "How long is hope?"

Hope is the distance from the nail in the left hand to the one in the right.

Life is as long as hope.