The life I have left.

We were driving Trail Ridge Road last month, a very familiar road to us and one we have driven multiple times each year for the past ten years or so. 2020 was devastating in so many ways, and adding to the lifechanging and history-making bullet points was the East Troublesome fire that swept through our favorite get-away, Grand Lake, Colorado. Almost 194,000 acres and everything on them were destroyed in the fire.

So, as we were once again driving in the National Forest and entered the re-birth of the area, Sam slowed down so we could pause and take it all in, quietly reflecting on the way it had been compared to the way it is now. He said something that has not left my thoughts since…

“I will not see these trees replaced in the life I have left.”

oof.

I have not been able to get that out of my mind since. When he said it, it was so somber, but yet it was so true. And it has made me think about how many things I may not ever see again. I have lived more years now than years I have left, and how many things, or people, have I seen that I will never see again?

I shall pass this way but once; any good that I can do or any kindness I can show to any human being, let me do it now. Let me not defer nor neglect it, for I shall not pass this way again.

– Etienne de Grellet, a Quaker missionary

I am grateful for stark reality that punches in the gut and causes reflection.

I am grateful that God not only restores my soul, He restores his creation.

I am grateful for the privilege and opportunities we have had to visit beautiful places on repeat.

I am grateful for Sam and the years God has given and continues to give to him, to us.

I am grateful that at every turn, God gives me opportunities to do good and show kindness, and when I neglect to do so, His mercy is new every morning, and He gives me a new day to try again, with the life I have left.

I am grateful for wildflowers.

I am grateful for the beauty of trees in full color.

And I am grateful for the message of death trees that remain standing, showing evidence of their existence, their trauma, and their strength.