Man oh man, do I like N.D. Wilson. I could write about this at length, but I’ll say right now that everything I’ve read by him is a drop-something-else-and-read-this kind of good.
One day I’ll discuss this more at length, but one idea he sounds most powerfully and beautifully is the idea that life is made to be spent, whether in living or dying. Today, a quote from his book Death by Living:
“Lay your life down. Your heartbeats cannot be hoarded. Your reservoir of breaths is draining away. You have hands, blister them while you can. You have bones, make them strain-they can carry nothing in the grave. You have lungs, let them spill with laughter. With an average life expectancy of 78.2 years in the US (subtracting eight hours a day for sleep), I have around 250,00 conscious hours remaining to me in which I could be smiling or scowling, rejoicing in my life, in this race, in this story, or moaning and complaining about my troubles. I can be giving my fingers, my back, my mind, my words, my breaths, to my wife and my children and my neighbors, or I can grasp after the vapor and the vanity for myself, dragging my feet, afraid to die and therefore afraid to live. And, like Adam, I will still die in the end.”