Fleeting

On Wednesday afternoon this tree in my front yard was beautiful. It had only lost about half its leaves. The rest were a splendid tapestry of golds and rusts. I asked Stephen to take a picture of me in front of that tree . (I was sporting a fresh-from-the-salon hairstyle which nobody has noticed, apparently, but that's not the point.) I knew my hair wouldn't look as good the next day , mostly because it had enough gel in it to withstand a Kansas tornado.

Stephen put up a bit of a fuss. ("Puh-lease, Mom. Why?)

"Honey, please," I begged. "These leaves might not be here tomorrow. And my hairdo definitely won't be. " He shook his head.

I was right.

Today, Sunday, nearly every leaf of that tree is gone. The leaves lasted a couple days longer than my hairdo, but they are both fleeting.

"Teach us to number our days that we may gain a heart of wisdom."

This verse came to my mind. I had read it a few days earlier--differently. Always before, I had sort of skipped over the first two words.

Teach us.

God has numbered your days. He's numbered mine. The key question I've always dwelled on is, How many days have I been given? Or, more simply, When will I die?

God is probably not going to answer that question. He will just call me home. I may or may not be caught by surprise when He does. I am not scared of that. I look forward to it, provided I don't have to suffer a long time while I wait for His call. The most important thing is to not forget that I am here for Him, for a brief and glorious interlude between birth and physical death. My life is as fleeting as one autumn leaf on a single tree.

It's the two words "teach us" that gave me pause . Teach us. I read "us" as "me" and realized that I need God to teach me to number my days. What does that mean? I have some thoughts. What are yours?