An honest life

There is an honesty that comes with a terminal illness. The honest truth of a terminal diagnosis strips down to the bones of things.
It strips down to the essentials of life. And from what I can see, a reckoning comes with this kind of closing.
A reckoning where priorities are weighed and the essentials of life for each person are alienated, estranged from the superfluous. And those essential elements are united as a collective output—to live!
 Live like LIFE has never been lived. Live like LIFE itself depends on it.
It becomes a survival to live—and not to live just to survive. I see that there is a difference between the two.
This truth has no room for false footing, nor does it wait for people’s approval. This honesty has no time for people to consider and confer, it only has time to deliver. And what it delivers is a truth so pure that the kingdom of heaven opens, the angels attend to hear, and God, Himself, is so pleased that He calls out and brings the truth home.
“Death is swallowed up in victory, O’ Death where is your victory? O Death where is your sting?” 1 Corinthians 15:55.
I sat down recently with a dear friend of mine from high school who faces the truth of his terminal diagnosis, not only every day but he admits that he faces it second by second, not knowing when it will be his last.
As I listened to him and his courage to live, something became transparent to me—he is living everyday like there is no tomorrow. He is no longer concerned with the foolish things of this world, those things that so easily can consume the precious time that we are given on this earth. He is fixated on giving to his family and to the ones around him the very thing that is the most undervalued element in this world—love. A compassion has welled up inside of him and though he battles some concerns, he is at peace with himself. He is at peace with his diagnosis. And in a world that is ever backstabbing and callous, and ever disruptive, peace is an article of value that is an awesome trade-off! It is a freedom from civil disturbances. It is a universal, complete abandonment of fear.  It is a state of quietness and tranquility that can’t be valued until you experience it, at any cost. Or until it is lost.
This holiday season, my prayers are with those facing a terminal diagnosis. I pray that your  heart is guarded by peace. Peace stands guard. “And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.” Philippians 4:7.
My prayers are with family members, friends and anyone who is dealing with a loved one who has a  terminal diagnosis—you are loved and I thank you for teaching us a life lesson with your very lives! I pray that God brings healing, comfort and strength to your mind, body and that your spirit is renewed second by second.
And my love is with my friend and his family, I am blessed for knowing you Shawn. Now let’s enjoy some living!