Choices in the Mist: Living a life that matters

This isn’t your typical Mother’s Day post—at all. But it’s what’s on this mother’s mind today . . .

It was July 2005, and I stood in the British Museum in London looking at the most well-preserved human I’d ever seen, little tufts of red hair still intact on his scalp. He had died more than 5500 years prior, his mummified remains housed in the museum since 1901.

I felt strangely drawn to the once-alive body as my mind began to ponder the cycle of life; birth through death as we know it.

The now-nameless man had lived and breathed and had his being on this earth just as I do. He had experienced infanthood, childhood, manhood.

Hopefully someone had loved him, and he them.

Mere days before, my grandfather had died at the age of 90. I was in England for Daughter the Older’s college graduation, and I was keenly aware as I stood in that moment of surreal reflection, that in only a few hours, I would miss Granddaddy’s celebration of life service and his burial.

One life well-lived. Another experiencing a new beginning.
I couldn’t be two places at once.

Oddly perhaps, my proximity to that glass-encased, ancient human brought comfort. Life is but a mist and then it’s gone.

Today I ask myself:

• How am I living in the midst of the mist?
• Am I waiting for a clear day, letting it obstruct my vision of what’s important?
• Am I walking forward, allowing the damp chill of the unseen (and the unknown) to envelop me without fear?
• Am I living life to the fullest, making a difference by loving the people around me—or am I allowing myself to be distracted by things that won’t matter 5500 years from now—or 5?
• What kind of mother am I to those I love? What am I teaching them? Modeling for them? What memories will I leave with them when I take my last step from the mist into eternity?

Why, you do not even know what will happen tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes. (James 4:14 NIV)

Today is all we have.

I now know the mummy is officially named Gebelein Man, but his nickname is Ginger. A few years ago, he was temporarily removed from the British Museum and imaging tests run to learn more about his life. You can read the details HERE.

It turns out he was murdered when he was 18-21 years old. Victim of war? He lived during peacetime. Did he put up a fight? Apparently he was surprised by his attacker.

One moment he was living. The next, he wasn’t.

Today is all we have.

Let’s resolve as mothers, sisters, daughters—women—to make it count! Let’s love (even if someone’s hurt us). Love (even if it’s one-sided). Love (because it’s the greatest gift we can give).

That’s when love is put to the test. When you don’t get it back.  ~Hallerin Hilton Hill

Related posts:

Making the RIGHT choices in an old house renovation {or in Life} The Eleventh Hour … What Does It Look Like? Focus Matters … SPLIT PERSONALITY: Seasons of Life