You aren't promised tomorrow

This is and always has been one of my favorite Bobby Shriner quotes. He would say it during every single fca in high school. "Guys you aren't promised tomorrow." And you aren't. In fact you aren't even promised today. God never even promises your next breath. But truthfully how many of us live that way?

I don't. I might for a few seconds, but then it stops. I might do something completely radical for a bit, it not all day every day. On top of that I'm pretty self centered too. It's not something I'm proud of or that I don't like about myself or worry about - this is just an observation of myself. It's me. It's the human condition. It's part of the fallen qualities of mankind. And I have to keep it in check.

Yesterday we went to the first baptist church of New York City. Last year when we attended it was late summer, the pastor was on vacation, there were about 20 people there and we met the fabulous Arlene Defaye Brauer. For more information read the 8/3/15 entry. 

We've been writing Arlene all year. She will always write back. You send a letter off and a few days or weeks later you open the mailbox to find a letter with handwriting that looks like your grandmother's. It takes both of us to decipher the cards. But we've kept every single one. 

So when we got to church I imagined she would remember every magical second that we had spent together last summer. She would hug us and wonder what we had been up to. She'd invite us to lunch and we'd hear more of her stories. We'd celebrate a late 100 birthday with her.

But she's 100 years old. When you leave a town, time doesn't stand still and wait for you to return.

She hugged us. She said good morning. She said she was glad to see us. But you could tell, that she didn't quite place us. It wasn't what I had imagined. In fact I couldn't place the feeling until later in the day. It was the same feeling I had when I was 19 years old at Christmas and my grandma Gregory turned to me and said "I used to know a little girl that looked just like you." It was the same feeling when I was in my late 20s and I came to see sweet grandma Murray and surprised her and she slammed her hand on the kitchen table and yelled "Well who the hell are you?" But those thoughts didn't reach me until late in the day. No in that particular moment, I was confused. Surprised. 

We talked with Donna who told us all about Arlene's 100th birthday celebration that they just had a few weeks ago. They made these huge posters from when's he performed at Carnegie hall. They had them all blown up and put around the fellowship hall. They had a pink carpet for her to walk down. They had cake and punch and music. Arlene wore a lovely sparkly gown and lace gloves. True to Arlene! This made us both very happy.

We found our seats and decided that if she didn't invite us to lunch we would go and do something on our own and that would be just fine. Seriously, up until this point, I hadn't imagined not having lunch withArlene. For some reason in my selfish head lunch with Arlene was something you did in New York, like going to Central Park. Or seeing the Statue of Liberty. 

So as we sang beautiful songs that Christians around the world sing, I had to get myself in check. I had to acknowledge some ugly things about my humanity and forgive myself and allow God to forgive me as well. He does that anyways, but sometimes it's about us allowing it to happen. 

At beginning of the sermon I was overcome with sadness. I was sad that I wasn't remembered by a 100 year old lady who had brought the sweetest day to my honeymoon last year. Which was promptly followed by, "could you be any more self centered?" Running through my head with shame. Until I reframed things...

The fact is that we were able to meet this woman at all in the first place - that's the miracle, the gift. And that happened and nothing can take that experience away or alter it. First and foremost, my husband and I spent time with Arlene on our honeymoon and lived an entire day together early in our marriage as if we weren't promised tomorrow. We cancelled our own plans to sit face to face with someone else. To provide her company while she ate. To enjoy that company. That really happened. 

Second, if it had happened again on this trip I think it would have taken away from the first experience. Are you tracking with me? You don't get do overs or second chances. Sometimes things happen just once. And those things that happen just once in life are extra extra special. But because of our nature we don't always treat them that way. We assume it will happen again. Or we are busy. Or we got a text message in the middle of it. Or an alert on our phone distracted us. Or....there's something else.

So when Aaron and I left the church to engage in our own new adventure, it wasn't what I had imagined. But I was certain to keep my eyes open and my attention focused on right here, right now, because what ever happened next may not ever happen again.

And that makes it extra extra special...