Number our days

At the doctor's office last night my physician saw something she didn't like and ordered a few tests at the hospital today. It's probably nothing, but the matter has prompted a scenario in my head.

What if you knew you had only one year to live? How would it make a difference in your relationship with your mate? If you knew for a fact that you were checking out in February 2009, if you were conscious every waking minute of the ticking off of days, would you be more patient with one another's flaws? More quick to forgive? Would you see offenses downsized? Would you work harder at fanning the flames of romantic ardor? Would your priorities shift as to the best use of remaining daylight?

Remember the time your sister came for a visit from out of state, and you spent three perfectly awful, contentious weeks together? Remember how in the last two days before her departure, you both managed to summon up kindness, acutely aware of the shortness of time. Hey, if you can do it for two days, come to think of it, why couldn't you stretch it out for two years? And if two years, why not twenty-two?

"Teach us to number our days, that we may get a heart of wisdom?" (Psalm 90:12).