The Frailty of Life

“You do not know what your life will be like tomorrow. You are just a vapor that appears for a little while and then vanishes away.” - James 4:14.

I think that could pretty well sum up the entire blog right there, and would say just as much in itself as it would if I filled several pages. However, I feel a bit too contemplative to just let it go at that. I’ve been thinking a good deal lately, today especially, about how we are just what James says; a vapor that appears and vanishes away. Not only do we appear and vanish away quickly, but our lives are so fragile along that short 80-year period. At any instant something could happen that could snuff out our lives before we could really think about it. I was walking in the woods carrying a shot gun earlier. I could have slipped and fell or dropped the gun, which could have discharged into my chest or head, and that would be the end of my life here. Of course I do carry it safely, by the way, with the hammer up (i.e., safety on), but freak accidents do happen.

What really got me to thinking on such morbid topics are the experiences I’ve had driving lately. Within the past two weeks, I’ve come on the very edge of having three very serious car accidents. Today I was on a two-lane road between Forrest and Raleigh on a very open stretch of road. I was starting down a long hill and I noticed an unloaded log truck passing a few cars and another 18-wheeler. I saw that he wasn’t progressing past them very fast, and for some reason I started slowing down. I saw that he probably wasn’t going to make it, so I slowed down to about 20 or 30 mph. I then realized that he definitely wasn’t going to make it, and I had to pull over onto the shoulder just before he flew by. He was just starting to go back into his lane when he passed where I was stopping. It all happened without squealing tires or horns or anything (though I regretted not laying it on him has he passed by), but it easily could have been serious. The road may not have had a wide enough shoulder, like in most of that area. He could have come up like that over a hill or around a curve. So many things could have gone tragically wrong, but God saw that it was good for me to be in that place where I could safely pull over, and for me to have the instinct to slow down far ahead of time. But if any one of those factors weren’t there, it could have again been the end of me. Trucks usually lose in games of chicken with 18-wheelers.

So that’s where my thought process on all this began. I think the scariest part about something like that to me is not getting to say goodbye. There are things I would want to tell people that I wouldn’t have the chance to; many are things that simply can’t be said for now as long as I think I’ll keep on going for a good many more years. Of course I know that my very next experience would be with Jesus, which really makes death nothing to dear at all. The aftermath of death for those who are believers in Jesus Christ is so amazing that I simply cannot understand my human desire to want to finish my “do list” in this life first.

Going back to the original point, our lives are so dependent of God’s sovereign will and his gentle hand. That’s why just a few verses earlier James says (in Southern lingo) “Now don’t say you’re gonna go start you up a business over yonder in Starksville and git you a nice house and how you’re gonna retire early and live comfortable and spoil yer grand-younguns, cuz you ain’t go idea what could happen ‘tween now and then.” James says Lord willing, you will do the things you set out to do, but only if it’s in His will. Again, it’s my challenge that we realize how fragile out lives are, and how easily our work here can come to an end. Our lives rest in the hands of an all-powerful and jealous God, but also in the hands of a God who is infinitely loving to those who are His children. He loved us, He died for us, he forgave us, He called us, and He adopted us. Out frailty in life serves one purpose, and that is to show His infinite love and grace towards us.