Like a Vapor.

It's not something you expect to hear at the end of a Wednesday work day. It's not something you expect to hear during the first week of a new year. It's not something you expect to hear, well, ever.
Yesterday was a pretty quiet day at work. I was tired when I got home and my knee hurt. I knew I had pushed it too hard for my first couple of days back at the gym. I didn't particularly feel like doing anything except curling up on a couch in sweatpants and watching "How I Met Your Mother." I set my stuff down and said hello to my family, then walked into the study to greet my kitty who was all stretched out and looking terribly comfy on the back of the leather chair. I walked back into the kitchen and picked up my phone.
"I just thought I should let you know," my mom started. I looked up. "Mr. Davenport died of a heart attack last night."
My heart felt like it stopped. She's got to be kidding. I was in shock. I couldn't believe it.
The first time I knew someone who died was in 2001. My great grandfather died. He was in his mid-90s. It was sad and I cried, but it wasn't that much of a surprise. He had lived a good life and had passed his prime long ago. Death is always a sad thing, but when someone lives a good, long life, it doesn't seem to hurt so much somehow.
Since then, I have known many wonderful people who have gone on. And with the exception of my grandfather, I would say they all died far too soon. There was my friend's dad who died of leukemia in his early 50's. There was my youth pastor who died of liver cancer in his 30's just weeks before his fifth child was born. There was our church's costume lady who died in her early 60's of injuries sustained from a car accident after months in a coma.
Death is scary, but when it happens to someone far sooner than we feel it should, it hits you in a different place.
The scariest part about this whole situation for me is that he was about the same age as my dad. And I realized that could've been my dad. Something like that could happen to my dad any day, at any time. Something like that could happen to my mom any day, at any time. Something like that could happen to me any day, at any time. And that realization is scary.
Our lives are so miniscule in comparison to the bigger picture and yet they seem so huge, so long, like such a big deal. Days like this remind me just how fragile life really is and how instantly it can be taken away from us.
How would I feel if I got home from work today and was told that my father had died? Or if I got a call saying an aunt or uncle had died? Or a friend?
It's a scary thought, and yet I have to remind myself that for those who know the Lord, like Mr. Davenport, they're in a better place. They've gone home and though we might miss them and wish they were still here with is, I can guarantee they're perfectly content right where they are.
I encourage you to take some time today to let those whom you love know it. Don't put off things today because you think they can be done tomorrow, because you might not have tomorrow.