Lost and Found

There is barely a difference
between the dead and the living.
I’ve walked the hallways of hospitals
for nearly two decades
and in all that time
that is the most profound thing I have learned.
People are born every day and people depart every day.
Everyday - like trains arriving and leaving a station.

Life on earth is brief.
But it does not stop here.
No, this is just a brief excursion.

As we awake from a dream and quickly it fades,
so too will our lives when we stand on the shore of eternity.
Even one hundred years of living
will seem like a dream fading away,
and all we will be left with is just our spirits,
our souls laid bare.

Will I be able to say I ran the race well?
Or will I be more like the apostles
who couldn’t stay awake long enough to pray with their Master
that dark night in the garden?
Will I be like Peter who swore to follow Christ to the death,
but who ran away in fear when the soldiers came?
What will I say of my brief moment under the sun?

If I am wise, I will say this:
I have nothing that is worth giving.
I have no words worth saying.
I have no good deeds that are good enough.
I have only the faith to trust in grace.

Thank God for his grace,
that unfathomable love that defies definition or explanation,
that saved a wretch like me.
I once was lost,
but now am found.
Was blind, but now I see.