Living Life in Fast-Forward

Technology has provided us with countless wonderful advancements. Seems to me among the best is being able to record TV programs for viewing at a later time.

Some of our favorite TV shows start at 10 p.m., meaning we’d have to stay up until 11 (the curse of living in the Eastern time zone) and then get up at oh-dark-thirty for work. So it’s nice to record them instead, for watching the next day or whenever it fits our schedule.

Not only that, but we also can fast-forward through annoying commercials and promos for shows we have no interest in watching. Since a new trend these days seems to be repeating the same commercials multiple times during a single program, it’s even better not having to watch them over and over.

What if you could fast-forward through
the undesirable times in life?

For sports like football and basketball, you can speed through the pre-game commentary and mindless in-game chatter, saving an hour or more of viewing time that you can devote to other things. If you’re a NASCAR fan, you can record and speed-view the entire race in about five minutes, since all that matters are the crashes and the final lap anyway.

Yes, the fast-forward button for TV is great. Don’t you sometimes wish there were a fast-forward button for life?

You’re sitting in a mind-numbing meeting at work, listening to someone drone on about something you have no interest in. What if you could hit the fast-forward button until you found a moment in the meeting that was worth paying attention to?

Or it’s Monday, and you can’t wait until Friday afternoon when you’ll be leaving your desk and heading out on vacation, far from deadlines and your boss’s hovering presence. Just hit “fast-forward” and it’s Friday, you’re already in the elevator and bound for your car to drive home. Sound like a good idea?

Maybe you’re stuck in the waiting room at the doctor’s office, the minutes are moving along at snail’s pace, and you’d like to be anywhere but there. How about hitting the “pause” button, going out and doing something productive, and returning an hour or so later, fast-forwarding to the moment when the nurse calls your name?

Yes, that fast-forward option could be useful, but in so many respects our lives already are moving too fast. When you’re raising children time seems to move so slowly – until you wake up one morning and they’re practically grown. Whether it’s kids or grandkids, there’s a lot to be said for cherishing every moment. Too soon they’re taking that first driver’s test, attending college, getting jobs of their own, marrying and doing all kinds of other adult stuff.

We wait with eager anticipation for the arrival of special days – holidays, birthdays, visits from beloved family members and friends, concerts. Then before our eyes can blink twice, those events have already passed, morphing into memories. Instead of fast-forwarding, it would be better to press the “stop action” button and savor those moments more fully.

As the psalmist wrote, “This is the day the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it” (Psalm 118:24). We spend so much time fretting about tomorrow or next week, next month or next year, we often fail to appreciate the day we have. As someone has said, “Today’s a gift – that’s why it’s called the present.”

I chuckle at how future-focused we can be. On National Signing Day, when college football fans wring their hands over which blue-chip players will commit to their favorite team, the fax machines have barely stopped when those same fans start debating who will sign with their team next year.

The Presidential election is held and the people’s choice has barely finished the acceptance speech when pundits already start commiserating over who will be the candidate for the losing party next time around.

Ephesians 5:16 advises we should be “(redeeming) making the best use of your time because the times are evil.” This doesn’t mean time itself is inherently bad, but it passes quickly. We can put it to good use; we can engage in unwholesome activities; or we can simply squander it through carelessness or indifference. In any case, each minute ticking away can’t be reclaimed.

Unlike your DVR player, life doesn’t have a pause or rewind button. So rather than wishing to fast-forward through life’s mundane, unspectacular moments, we should value each one. Who knows? In the midst of the monotony, perhaps something really special will happen, surprising the heck out of us. You wouldn’t want to miss it, would you?

The Gift of Every New Day

When the sun begins to set on each day, can you say
you've treated the day as the gift that it has been?

We take so much of life for granted. Especially those of us blessed with good health. We charge through each day with our schedules, commitments, to-do lists and sundry activities, tumble into bed – and start it all over again the next day. We rarely pause to appreciate life’s little blessings, such as being able to see a pretty flower, listen to birds chirping nearby, or even take a deep breath.

Not everyone is so fortunate. We observe people that are sightless, others that sign to communicate because they can’t hear. And occasionally we learn about individuals for whom the seemingly simple act of breathing is a challenge.

My friend David is one of the latter. At 18 months old, he was diagnosed with cystic fibrosis, a genetic, incurable disease that affects the lungs and digestive system. Initially David wasn’t expected to survive childhood, but thanks to very supportive parents, medical advances, excellent healthcare – and God’s grace – he has reached his 46^th birthday.

He’s got a beautiful family – a wife and five children – and has achieved a successful professional career despite his disability. But David never takes any of that for granted. Just inhaling and exhaling serve as constant reminders.

David is now in the process of qualifying as a candidate for a double lung transplant. He doesn’t seek pity or sympathy. To the contrary, he’s the first to insist how abundant his life has been. He’d like to remind each of us that every new day is truly a gift. Recently he wrote the following:

“Got to spend time with the family at the lake house. I love (our children) slalom and wakeboard, riding the tube and doing flips off the boat. Things for me are not as easy as they use to be, but no less rewarding. Every day is a gift.   

Life is not to be taken for granted. I am reminded that breathing is essential. Today I jumped into the lake. Actually, I did a flip. After hitting the water I realized I had trouble catching my breath. I used to swim for hours in the water and never tire. Times have changed, but the desire to live and fight is still here. My kids have to do more themselves, but they know I am out there with them and that's what matters.”

For years I’ve made a practice of trying to keep the value of each day foremost in my mind. Many mornings I recite the biblical reminder, “This is the day the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it” (Psalm 118:24). From God’s perspective, each day is a gift He has freely given, filled with opportunities, challenges and surprises. When we awaken each morning, we discover He’s presented us with another day. We shouldn’t squander it.

Another passage underscores the importance of being good stewards with the time we’re given: “Look carefully then how you walk, not as unwise, but as wise, making the best use of the time, because the days are evil” (Ephesians 5:15-16). Another translation calls this "redeeming the time."

That doesn’t mean frantically trying to squeeze every ounce of productivity out of every 24-hour period, but it does advise making the effort to appreciate each day, because it’s all we’ve got. Yesterday’s gone; tomorrow might never come. All we have is today.

Some moments are breathtaking. And sometimes physical exertion leaves us momentarily short of breath. Nevertheless, if you can take a breath at all, stop and be thankful for that. It’s a gift. Just ask David.

Hearty Anniversary to Me

Four years ago today I lay on an operating room table, ribs splayed open while a gifted cardiothoracic surgeon and his team performed four coronary artery bypass grafts (also known as CABG or “cabbage”), along with an aortic root replacement (correcting an aneurysm in my ascending aorta).

Richard Holbrooke, a distinguished U.S. diplomat, died just last week of an aortic dissection at the age of 69. So it’s serious stuff, for sure.

I don’t remember much about Dec. 20, 2006, although I’m told even under pre-op medication I was cracking jokes en route to surgery. Better than kicking and screaming. My wife says when she saw me the first time in surgical ICU that evening, I was ashen. Kinda like death warmed over (although I don’t know why anybody would want to do that).

What I do recall from the days immediately following was feeling like someone hit me in the chest with a pickup truck, and then backed up and hit me again for good measure. Not recommended. Having to spend Christmas Day in a hospital recovering wasn’t my preference, but I’ll always be thankful for the excellent care I received - as well as the good health I've experienced since then.

That’s why I volunteer at the hospital one day a week, encouraging patients who have undergone similar procedures. When I visit them, along with strongly recommending they engage in cardiac rehabilitation, I point out every morning upon awakening, they should remember they’ve received a gift – another day. The question is: What are they going to do with it?

It’s so easy to take everyday life for granted, presuming we’ll have tomorrow, next week, next year. So struggles like that are not only humbling, but also useful in recognizing, as Psalm 118:24 tells us, “This is the day the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it.”