How do you measure?

-There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens: a time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot…a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance…

–Ecclesiastes 3: 1,2,4

-Surely your goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.

–Psalm 23:6

-Five hundred twenty-five thousand, six hundred minutes

Five hundred twenty-five thousand moments so dear

Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes

How do you measure, measure a year?

–“Seasons of Love” from the musical “Rent”

How do you measure a year?

How do you measure…a life?

The answer is the same…in “Rent” and the Word.

Measure in love.

…

“What am I doing here?” I prayed, sitting on the living room floor in the farmhouse.

It was two weeks before my mom’s funeral and I had already decided I was NOT doing a photo board. I couldn’t do a photo board. The initial cleaning and decluttering of her home had unleashed an avalanche of memories and emotions, and I was at full capacity. No room left in the inn, in my heart and mind, for any more.

Yet here I was, nudged by a Spirit I couldn’t ignore.

How do you measure a life…in photos?

“Just start,” He said, “See how it goes. If it’s too much…stop.”

I took a deep breath, popped the lid off the bin, grabbed the first envelope…shuffle, shuffle, shuffle…”Oh, wow!…oh my gosh, I forgot about that trip…oh! a baby picture!…Great Grandma Jensen!…Mom and Dad were so young, they were kids…”

I plucked out favorites, and ones that just zinged when I touched them, creating an ever-growing collage on the carpet. I felt like a time traveler conducting a symphony…a thunderous percussive event over here, followed by a sweet little interlude, a harmonious thread running through it all…

Not sadness…

Joy. Just joy.

I scanned over my selections, making sure they covered every significant period of her life, and…woah!…a mini-epiphany…

For two years my mom had been in decline, the changes, and the crises that accompanied them, coming more and more quickly. The last few months were especially overwhelming…24/7 caregiving for us, and debilitating, unending pain for her. Without realizing it, my view of my mother had narrowed to a sweet, helpless, stooped-over, curled-up version of her. I had forgotten all this…a vibrant, active woman, forever-youthful as she aged, a life brimming with service and adventure and family and friends…and love.

She walked with the Lord for eighty-two years, and eighty of them were awesome. Not perfect, not without trials and heartbreak and loss, yet still…awesome. And even those last difficult years contained some of the most incredible moments, the ones that only happen as you move alongside a loved one in a time of struggle, the ones that bond and bind you, with sweetness and intensity, to each other, and to God.

In the hours before the funeral, family members filled in the gaps with snapshots of their own, and I stood before its completed form…

Yes. She had a good life. She had a beautiful life.

And now she’s living an even better one with Him.

Later, engulfed in a new period of deep grief, another insight hits me…

How often does my view of my own life close in?

There is a health issue, a strained relationship, a job loss…or maybe it’s just normal everyday responsibilities growing, seemingly overnight, into an insurmountable pile…and that suddenly becomes the focus, the…everything…

And bam! my current situation resembles a refrigerator.

Sure, there are Bible verses up there, and inspirational magnets, and family photos and kids’ cute little drawings…with overdue bills and important forms and days-old to-do lists smashed on top of them!…obscuring the beauty in a frenetic, chaotic mess.

In those times I need to turn away from that muddle of discouragement and despair…and step up beside Him. Then I zoom out, examine it all with fresh eyes. What I find is this…

This current segment of my time on earth is a teeny, tiny corner of a very big board…

Orchestrated by a Very Big God.

And I give Him a very big hug.

Yes. it’s a good life. It’s a beautiful life. It’s a full life…

Full of love…

Full of Him.