Epilogue
Happy 2013. I suppose the Mayans were wrong at this point....or they simply ran out of stone to carve for the calendar. Either way, we're in 2013. And coming off a break, I really enjoyed spending some down time with family and friends, particularly my conversation with my superstar to bring in the new year thinking of the past, talking of the present, and looking to the new year as another opportunity. I sit and write today - knowing that 175 days from today, I will not have a job, or so it seems. And I do not know what that means in so many ways. Where will I find a job? Where will we live? Will the girls be at BP - and what a blessing that has been.? Will we stay in our apartment? Brooklyn? New York? Don't know. But as I walked to the train this morning praying as I do each day, the word epilogue kept coming to me. What will be your epilogue? Here is the definition: 1- a speech, usually in verse, addressed to the audience by an actor at the end of a play. 2. a short postscript to any literary work, such as a brief description of the fates of the characters in a novel.
So why would this word pop into my head? I feel like God is challenging me to think about what my epilogue would be. At the end of this play (my life), what will my epilogue sound like? Would I indeed give it myself? I think not since I would be dead. And the reality and sting of death is confronting. Had a great conversation with a friend NYE about the stark reality of our limited time on earth - and how at some point in your life - particularly I believe for males in their 30s/40s - you come to the stark reality that you will not live forever. You will die. And all the questions that are in my life above, really are futile to worry about. Not that I won't need to pursue, work, and seek, that I will need to do. But more importantly, what will my epilogue be? I am somewhat of a visionary person - I love to think about the idealist outcome at the end of a long period of time - it is I believe a part of how God wired me. And I had a small vision this morning in my prayer on the bridge over the expressway. It was a podium with a microphone. And in my heart of hearts, I wondered what people would say (the actors) as my epilogue. Or if someone were to write the epilogue of my life (my literary work), what would they read at the podium? I pictured a few people standing in line waiting to read from my epilogue, or speak it from the heart. And I couldn't hear them. Because my story is not done. The play is not finished. There is much to do. This year. Hopefully next. I pray for many years to come. But my vision was snapped up as the reality of today washed across my face. Today is my work. My literary work. And I will try to write the story the way it should be written. With my focus less on my, and more on others. With the drama, the comedy, the tragedy injected into each moment of this play, this literary work. And I pray the author of salvation would continue to help me write this story. And the epilogue.
So why would this word pop into my head? I feel like God is challenging me to think about what my epilogue would be. At the end of this play (my life), what will my epilogue sound like? Would I indeed give it myself? I think not since I would be dead. And the reality and sting of death is confronting. Had a great conversation with a friend NYE about the stark reality of our limited time on earth - and how at some point in your life - particularly I believe for males in their 30s/40s - you come to the stark reality that you will not live forever. You will die. And all the questions that are in my life above, really are futile to worry about. Not that I won't need to pursue, work, and seek, that I will need to do. But more importantly, what will my epilogue be? I am somewhat of a visionary person - I love to think about the idealist outcome at the end of a long period of time - it is I believe a part of how God wired me. And I had a small vision this morning in my prayer on the bridge over the expressway. It was a podium with a microphone. And in my heart of hearts, I wondered what people would say (the actors) as my epilogue. Or if someone were to write the epilogue of my life (my literary work), what would they read at the podium? I pictured a few people standing in line waiting to read from my epilogue, or speak it from the heart. And I couldn't hear them. Because my story is not done. The play is not finished. There is much to do. This year. Hopefully next. I pray for many years to come. But my vision was snapped up as the reality of today washed across my face. Today is my work. My literary work. And I will try to write the story the way it should be written. With my focus less on my, and more on others. With the drama, the comedy, the tragedy injected into each moment of this play, this literary work. And I pray the author of salvation would continue to help me write this story. And the epilogue.
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