Well I am back from vacation. The world did not stop while I
was gone. Work piled up. Correspondence kept coming in. Church drama still
occurred. You would think that once you had a terminal illness that those types
of things would improve, but at the end of the day, life happens. So what’s one
of the first things I did when I got back? I took a glass vase, placed it
squarely on That's in interesting story.
my desk and placed in it 256 marbles. Why 256 marbles?
At my first appointment (for non-UMC folks, that means my
first church) there was a man who was 93 years young. He was amazing. Every
week he came to the little church I served, gave the children pieces of Juicy
Fruit gum and quarters, sat on the third row on the right next to the window
and, promptly, fell asleep during the sermon.
One day I went to visit him at the home of his daughter with
whom he lived. I found him out in the garden, sitting in a customized lawn
chair, hoeing and weeding his garden. The plants were full of fresh vegetables
that I knew he harvested and gave away with great joy. He sent me to the garden
shed for a tool and on the counter was a jar of marbles.
When I returned I asked him about the jar of marbles. He
went on to explain how when he was fifty a friend of his died suddenly and, he
said, it made him think. He told me how he figured he’d be lucky to make it to
72, which means he had about 1,000 weeks left. He needed something to remind
him to make every week, every day count. So, he went to the local five and dime
store and bought 1,000 marbles and put them in a glass jug. Every week he would
take out a new marble to carry around in his pocket all week and drop last
week’s marble in a drawer in the garden shed. He said it reminded him to make
the most of every day. It reminded him to let small offenses go, to live open
handed, to share whatever he had, and to live every week for God. He said when
you realize you have limited time you make sure you don’t miss church, or
praying with your family, or telling people you love them.
“Um, Mr. Croom, you are a lot older than 72.” I said to him.
“Yep, that’s true. It is kind of scary when you take the
last marble out of your jar.” He laughed recalling that Saturday. He said that
the next week he realized every week after that was like a precious gift from
God. He began putting marbles back into the jar thanking God for the extra time
to make a difference in this world and to prepare for the next one. By the time
I saw the jar, it had more than 20 years worth of marbles and was getting close
to overflowing. This kind man was still giving away food, helping neighbors,
and worshipping faithfully (even if he did sleep during the sermon!), and he
did so until the day I did his funeral.
The day I did his funeral, the little country church was
overflowing. Everybody in that community knew of him, his love for them, and
his love for Jesus. Tears were shed, stories were shared, and there was lots of
Juicy Fruit gum passed out, but the seat next to the window on the third row on
the right side remained empty, but that seat in heaven, I’m sure was full.
So, when I got back from vacation, four weeks post cancer
diagnosis, I counted out 256 marbles. Looking at the course of my type of
cancer and its normal prognosis, five years is an ambitious goal, but I’ve
always set ambitious goals. I am going to carry around a marble each week to
remind me to make every day count, to let small offenses go, to live open
handed and open hearted, to live every week for God, and to invest in things
that will outlive me. I will do this because at the end of my time I want there
to be a party to celebrate my life that is as joyous as the one that I did for
a man who lived 93 years with such passion and intensity that it affected an
entire community.
What does this mean? It means I am losing my marbles. That
time is precious. That if I am not careful I will waste the precious gift of
time that God has given me. Funny, when you put a quantitative container with a
measurement of your life in front of you, it puts things in perspective. So,
how about you? Are you wasting your marbles or investing them in things that
matter? You only have so many you know; your marbles are numbered just like
mine. You are just assuming that you have more, but at the end of the day, you
never know. Grab a marble, put it in your pocket, and let it remind you what is
really important, and even more vital, what is not important at all.
2 comments:
Love this, Marty, thanks.
Praying you get the chance to add LOTS of marbles back to your jar, but confident you are in the hands of God regardless.
Good way to measure, Marty. This is a great lesson for everyone, not just those of us with a terminal diagnosis. I am glad that only God knows how many marbles each one of us has. I have already used more than one of my oncologist predicted. I get a kick out of it every time God does something like that.
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