Living Like There’s No Tomorrow

Decades ago, theologian Francis Schaeffer authored a book that asked, How Should We Then Live? This remains a valid question today, although it would be difficult to reach a consensus on the right answer. But whether we realize it or not, we’re offering our own answers by how we approach each new day.

“Today is the tomorrow you worried about yesterday.” I don’t remember when or where I first heard that, but it’s true – simplistic as it seems. We worry about what will or could happen tomorrow, then before we know it, ‘tomorrow’ has suddenly transformed into today – and there’s a brand-new tomorrow to fret over.

 

Not one of us is guaranteed tomorrow. Regardless of our age, all we’ve got is today. We can choose to dwell on our yesterdays; we can reach for the future like trying to grasp the just-out-of-reach brass ring on a merry-go-round, or we can focus on today and decide how to go about living it. 

 

One way of looking at it would be to, “Live like there’s no tomorrow.” But even that’s up for interpretation. Some would take that as license to indulge in whatever practices and pleasures they please. Like the old advertising slogans, “Grab the gusto” or “You only go around once.” This approach might provide brief excitement and gratification, but thrills fade quickly. Then what?

 

A better approach, I believe, is to recognize each day as a gift from God. We can rejoice at having been given another chance to enjoy His creation, whether it’s billowy clouds in a bright blue sky, vast expanses like the Grand Canyon, a baby’s laugh, or a beautiful field of wildflowers. We can revel in relationships, appreciating cherished family members and friends. And we can strive use and further develop the talents, experiences and passions we’ve cultivated over time.

 

It’s not wrong to dream about what we’d like to do in the future. We can make plans, whether for the weekend, next week, next month or next year. But all we have for certain is today – the next minute, the next hour. We all know people who no longer have that.

 

Recently my high school graduating class held another reunion. I wasn’t able to attend this one but did receive a report afterward and saw photos from the event. Out of our class of 305, about 45 alums were able to participate.

 

It was fun to look at the updated images of old classmates, even if I didn’t recognize many of them. (The passing years have a curious way of changing our looks.) But one photo was sobering. It was of a poster entitled, “In Remembrance,” listing classmates known to be no longer with us. The list contained 94 names – nearly one-third of our class.

 

Most had passed away in recent years, but others had died decades ago, including two who lost their lives in combat while serving in the Vietnam War less than one year after graduating. I still remember having spent time with some of them in class, performing in the high school band, or at school events.

 

I don’t mean to sound morbid. It’s just a tangible reminder of an old Latin saying, “Tempus fugit” – time flies. When we received diplomas marking the end of our high school years, we all felt excitement and wonder, and maybe some nervousness, not knowing what the future held. I doubt many of us understood then that every new day would indeed be a new gift, undeserved but available either to use productively or squander in vain pursuits.

 

The Scriptures provide reminders of this. Writing to believers in the ancient city of Ephesus – yet very applicable for us in the 21^stcentury – the apostle Paul admonished: 

“For you were once darkness, but now you are light in the Lord. Live as children of light…and find out what pleases the Lord…. Be very careful, then, how you live – not as unwise but as wise, making the most of every opportunity, because the days are evil” (Ephesians 5:8-16).

 

This doesn’t suggest time itself is inherently bad. However, time has a disconcerting habit of racing by quickly and we can’t recapture it. We all have different talents; we don’t all have identical material resources. But regardless of affluence, age or social standing, we each have the same amount of time – 24 hours, 1,440 minutes every day. So, we should be about, as another translation expresses it, “redeeming the time.”

 

In James 4:14 we read, “You do not even know what will happen tomorrow! What is your life? You are a mist [a vapor] that appears for a little while and then vanishes.” So, getting back to the question, “How should we then live?”, what are we going to do with the time allotted?

 

Living like there’s no tomorrow isn’t necessarily bad; it can be a very positive thing. Yes, we can have fun or relax at times with no particular goal in mind. But life’s most fulfilling when it’s being invested – lived intentionally, not simply spent. We can best do this by determining to engage in worthwhile endeavors.

 

The apostle Paul put it this way in Galatians 6:10, “Therefore, as we have the opportunity, let us do good to all people, especially to those who belong to the family of believers.” Another apostle, Peter, urged us to live following the example of how Jesus lived, ultimately giving His life for us as the once and for all atonement for sin. His life, without question, was filled with intention. Our response? “Consequently, [the Christ follower] does not live out his remaining time on earth for human passions, but for the will of God” (1 Peter 4:2).

 

When we awaken each morning, perhaps it would be good not only to thank the Lord for another day, but also to ask, “How would You like me to use it?”

Taking a Brief Look at Life’s Brevity

One of the wonders of the English language is how a single word can take on a variety of meanings. Take the word love for example: We can love a spouse, child, friend, job, sports team, a vacation spot, TV show, car, God, and a host of other things – and in each case, mean something different.

 

Another of those “multi-meaning” words is the word brief. An attorney can compile a legal brief that is anything but brief. We might stop by a friend or relative’s home for a brief visit, which could mean a few minutes or a couple hours. If someone needs to tell us something important, they might preface with the words, “I’ll be brief.” When making a choice of men’s underwear, the option is “boxers or…briefs.” 

 

And then there’s “brief” in terms of the perspective we might have on life, whether it’s our own or someone else’s. An advantage – or liability, depending on how you look at it – of advancing into adult years is an appreciation of how brief earthly life really is. When we’re young, as adolescents or teens, senior adulthood seems like an eternity away. Then one day we realize how quickly years have passed.

 

Looking back, we might marvel at how much of our lives we’ve spent on frivolous pursuits – hours, days and years that are gone forever, never to be recaptured. Perhaps this is one reason King David of Israel wrote so eloquently, “Show me, O Lord, my life’s end and the number of my days; let me know how fleeting is my life. You have made my days a mere handbreadth; the span of my years is as nothing before you. Each man’s life is but a breath…” (Psalm 39:4-6).

 

Does this sound pessimistic? Perhaps, but I’m more inclined to regard it as realistic. As we get older, the years which once seemed to pass so slowly begin picking up pace, a year seeming to conclude almost as soon as it started.

 

Reading the early chapters of Genesis, we see that in the first human generations, people’s lives amazingly spanned centuries. Adam, we’re told, lived to be 930. His son, Seth, lived to the ripe old age of 912. Other men with names like Enosh, Kenan, Mahalelel and Jared each lived well beyond 900 years. Methuselah was the oldest of them all, dying when he was 969 years old, according to the Scriptures.

 

Can you imagine having been born in, say, the year 1096 and still being alive today? Boggles the mind, doesn’t it? Alas, folks today don’t live nearly that long; we might not want to even if we could. More people do seem to be living past 100 these days, but that’s still a mere fraction of the lifespans of the earliest Genesis generations. Sooner or later, our earthly tenure will come to an end.

 

Which brings us back to David’s solemn petition: “Show me, O Lord, my life’s end…how fleeting is my life…. Each man’s life is but a breath….” If that’s true, in light of the whole scheme of time, space and eternity, how should we respond? 

 

Basically we have two options: We can take a fatalistic approach, echoing the writer of Ecclesiastes, assumed by most to be King Solomon of Israel, who suggested, “Then I realized that it is good and proper for a man to eat and drink, and find satisfaction in his toilsome labor under the sun during the few days of life God has given him – for this is his lot” (Ecclesiastes 5:18). 

 

Or we can strive to identify our strengths and gifts, seeking to maximize them for the benefit of those we love, as well as those we encounter from day to day, and doing what we can to advance the cause of Jesus Christ for as long as God enables us. 

The apostle Paul exhorted first-century believers, “Be very careful, then, how you live – not as unwise by as wise, making the most of every opportunity, because the days are evil” (Ephesians 5:16). This continues to be excellent advice for all who follow Christ in the 21^st century. “Tempus fugit,” as the Romans used to say – “Time flies.” It’s brief. We’d be wise to invest it, capitalizing on every opportunity that presents itself.