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. 

What If ‘Tomorrow’ Never Comes?

Most of us are amateurs at the majority of things we do. We try our best, but we’re not experts. But if there’s one thing many of us are pros at, it’s pro-crastinating. (Have you ever met an amateur-crastinator?)

Tasks we dislike quite easily are delayed for another time. “Never do today what you can put off till tomorrow,” Aaron Burr is reputed to have said. Even though the one-time Vice President to President Thomas Jefferson apparently wasn’t thinking that when he chose to engage Alexander Hamilton in a duel, which resulted in the latter’s demise. 

We might not have his dueling spirit, but can relate to his sentiments. Sometimes even things we enjoy are postponed for another day. Practically all writers have perfected the art of procrastination. Writing is such a personal act, putting intimate thoughts into words and sentences and then onto a page – paper or online – and then submitting them for readers’ consideration. So, there’s a temptation to delay until “the right moment.” But I’ve learned that as with any worthwhile challenge, ultimately you must just suck it up and get to work.

Where procrastination can be most damaging is in relationships. Harry Chapin sang about this in his classic tune, “Cat’s in the Cradle.” If you don’t remember, it’s about a father who promised to spend time with his young son, but always found more pressing things to do. When he finally reached the point in life when he had the time, the now-grown son had his own slew of commitments. The best he could do was echo his father’s words, “But we’ll get together then, Dad, we’re gonna have a good time then.”

Recently I heard someone recite a poem called “Tomorrow,” by American poet Edgar Guest, that captures the perils of procrastination perfectly:

He was going to be all that a mortal could be. . . Tomorrow
None should be kinder or braver than he. . . Tomorrow
A friend who was troubled and weary he knew,
Who’d be glad of a lift and who needed it, too,
On him he would call to see what he could do. . . Tomorrow
Each morning he’d stack up the letters he’d write. . . Tomorrow
And he thought of the friends he would fill with delight. . . Tomorrow
It was too bad indeed; he was busy each day,
And hadn’t a minute to stop on his way;
“More time I’ll give to others,” he’d say. . . Tomorrow
The greatest of workers this man would have been. . . Tomorrow
The world would have known him, had he ever seen. . . Tomorrow
But the fact is he died, and faded from view,
And all that he left here when living was through – 

Was a mountain of things he intended to do. . . Tomorrow.

Lord knows I’ve done my share of putting off until tomorrow, perhaps more than my share. In recent years I’ve been trying to overcome that, especially with loved ones and old friends. When someone comes to mind that I haven’t talked with lately – or at least texted – I try to give them a call. When I think, “We really should get together for lunch (or coffee),” I try to make it happen.

We’re discovering how quickly our grandkids grow up – even faster than we realize. So I’m aiming to not be consumed by the urgent and instead focus on the important, such as spending time with one of our “grands” whenever we get the chance. Recently we went to church and enjoyed brunch with our oldest granddaughter here in town, and it was a special time. A rare opportunity.

Ephesians 5:16 talks about, “making the most of your time, because the days are evil.” Some translations use the phrase, “redeeming the time,” which I prefer because it presents the image of making a one-time redemption for a day or an opportunity. What’s “evil” about the days is that once they’re gone, you can’t get them back. They’re beyond redemption.

Another verse, Galatians 6:10, offers a similar idea as it applies to relationships: "Therefore, as we have opportunity, let us do good to all people, especially those who belong to the family of believers." Tomorrow, or as they say it in Spanish – “mañana” – may never come.

As Jesus said, "as long as it is day, we must do the works of Him who sent Me. Night is coming, when no one can work" (John 9:4). Let's not be like the fellow described in Guest's poem, who figured there would always be time enough for doing whatever it was – tomorrow.

Tackling the Time Conundrum

As I write this – a couple of weeks ago – it was one month after my wife and I were just arriving in Rome for our 12-day group tour of Italy, and one week since I was getting prepared for a heart valve replacement. I remember looking ahead to both of these events, along with the wedding of our granddaughter in Ohio several weeks earlier. Now, all three have come and gone, with new things to anticipate. And our lives go on.

Time is a funny thing. Science tells us it’s constant, that a minute is always a minute long, that a day is always 24 hours, and a year is always 365 days – except for leap year, when it’s 366. But have you ever had the thought, “This has been the longest day!” and then heard someone say the same thing? Conversely, occasionally we say, “This day has flown by,” and another person responds, “It sure has!” So, is time really all that constant?

My purpose is not to debate or conjecture the space-time continuum. I prefer to stick with things I know about. But what do we have that’s more precious than time? We might say it’s money, but for most of us, there are always ways of making or generating more money, whether it’s working more or selling stuff. However, we can’t generate more time – and we can’t really save it. You can’t put it into a safety deposit box, or stash it into a self-storage unit. It comes and goes, whether we’re ready for it or not. Today turns into yesterday in a flash, and tomorrow transforms into today before we know it.

When I was young, I remember summer vacations seemed to go on forever. But as I got older, those idyllic breaks in the educational process started moving faster and faster, until the summer seemed little more than a eye’s blink. As they say, time takes wings when you’re having fun.

As an adult in the business world, I attended classes on “time management.” If there’s ever been anything less accurately named, I can’t think of it. Because we can’t “manage” time. We can only use it as it comes and try not to waste the moments before they flee.

Not that we must squeeze every possible ounce of activity and productivity out of every minute. In Italy, it was interesting to see many shops and even restaurants close during the midday to give workers a couple of hours to rest. The Spanish call it a “siesta.” As I’ve written before, we Americans can become enslaved to the tyranny of the urgent.

At the same time, the Scriptures admonish us to “redeem the time for the days are evil” (Ephesians 5:16). In other words, missed opportunities won’t return to give us a second shot at them. Sometimes this means working in earnest to meet an important deadline; sometimes it means savoring the opportunity to enjoy the company of loved ones and friends, even when speaking words isn’t necessary.

As Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 reminds us, “There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven: a time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot…a time to tear down and a time to build…a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them, a time to embrace and a time to refrain…a time to be silent and a time to speak….”

There’s one other time reference that immediately comes to mind when I consider the Scriptures. It’s when God gives us time to interact with others about eternal, spiritual truths. As Colossians 4:5 states, “Be wise in the way you act toward outsiders; make the most of every opportunity.” Is there a moment when you can encourage another believer in his or her spiritual pilgrimage? Do it now. Do you encounter a non-believer who seems receptive to talking about Jesus? Speak with them now. 

And if God presents you with a situation where you can demonstrate His love and kindness to someone else, don’t hesitate: “Therefore, as we have opportunity, let us do good to all people, especially to those who belong to the family of believers”(Galatians 6:10). Remember, time flies!