All the days planned for me

Heading south on I-25 this afternoon we saw an almost-terrible accident on the other side as a semi t-boned a small car coming off a ramp, trying to beat the truck.  Dirt and black smoke, the stench of brakes, the air suddenly thick with debris.  The trucker, who managed somehow to avoid an accident that might involve a number of cars and trucks, had had to work hard to avoid killing the driver of the car, who within seconds (and maybe before the accident) was on talking on his cell phone.

How anyone could have the presence of mind to be talking on the phone that quickly with the grid of a truck literally in his face, I am not sure.  But that driver got a reprieve.  That driver didn’t die.  Miraculously. There are more days for him.

Just getting back into Brighton a few hours later, emergency vehicles everywhere.  Traffic is backed up a mile or more.  We top the hill, going slowly around as the emergency staff directs us, into the wrong lane.

The sun is shining brightly.  The day is beyond gorgeous.  I spent the morning with my little Kelley kids, spring break.  We painted, read books, ate Dilly Bars and enjoyed the patio swing.  I spent the afternoon in nice meetings with great people.

A white sheet flutters in the gentle breeze over a lifeless body. The sun keeps shining.  The mangled motorcycle (I guess it is a motorcycle?) in the ditch just beyond.  No more days for him.

“Lord, remind me how brief my time on earth will be.

Remind me that my days are numbered—

how fleeting my life is.

You have made my life no longer than the width of my hand.

My entire lifetime is just a moment to you;

at best, each of us is but a breath.”

Psalm 39.4-5 NLT

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