We’re all going to die. And we’re going to live forever. Where our souls end up depends on the choices we make today. Do you ever wonder what you’re going to look like in the future?
I do. Will I be fat? Will I go gray? Will I have smile-crinkles or frown-wrinkles? Potbelly? Hunchback? Varicose veins? Will I look in the mirror some morning and gasp, “Mom! What are you doing here?”
Actually, I know exactly what I'll look like. You too. One hundred years from now, you and I will be nothing but old bones dressed in our rotting Sunday best. Every time I see a picture of a skull or a skeleton I say to myself, “Kris, it won't be long.”
I'm not a gloomy person at all, but I have made a commitment to live my life according to what's true and my inevitable death is most certainly, unquestionably true. Time is running out. The grim reaper is on his way. I'm going to die. And so are you. So is everyone we love. It's a fact worth taking to heart.
The great spiritual writers recommend that we keep death in mind at all times. It sounds like a recipe for depression, but in reality it's just the opposite. When we face our own impending doom we discover the secret to making every minute count. Everything we do either points our soul in the direction of eternal life or it doesn't. Each relationship, each incident, each word is an opportunity to grab onto eternity, to make a mark that lasts forever on our soul or the soul of another person. That's what holiness is all about: saying yes to the everlasting and no to the perishable. It means living with one foot in heaven, and that's exciting!
It's also very practical. For instance, I'm married and have two children. My call to holiness, my “yes” to the everlasting, is to live with my husband and children as though I (and they) were going to die any day and also live forever (which is the truth of the matter). Pondering the shortness of this life, both theirs, and mine, helps me to maximize the value of my choices and minimize regrets. If I knew I had only twenty-four hours to live, which would I choose? TV or conversation? Nagging or encouragement? Prayer or People magazine? A trip to the mall or a trip to confession? What would I want to pass on to my children? What would I say to my husband? How would I pray for those I love?
Thomas à Kempis said we ought to start each day as though it were our last, and end each day as though we would never wake up again. It's a difficult task, especially when there are bills to pay and diapers to change and the potatoes are boiling over on the stove. It's a constant spiritual battle to live eternity here and now. Our earthbound inclinations fight against our heavenly destiny. God's grace, especially through prayer and the Sacraments, gives us all the ammunition we need to win the war.
We have an urgent reason to share the Good News of salvation in living, loving color with everyone God has placed into our circle of influence, starting with the members of our own families. Remember this? “Only one life, 'twill soon be past/Only what's done for Christ will last.” We'd do well to paste that saying on every wall of our house.
We're all going to die. And we're going to live forever. Where our souls end up depends on the choices we make today. Next time you see a skeleton, say hello to yourself. Then go tell someone how to get to heaven.
(c) 2003 Kristine Franklin
