Last year as my mom was dying, I was amazed at how very small the world became for her. There were no more trips for her to the nail salon or flea market, no need for the part-time job or her library card, no interest in the subdivision gossip. There was touch. Presence. Prayer. Only a couple of nurses, my sister and I, and brief visits from 2 of her good friends. And in the end, like a telescope tightening its focus to a single point, death shut out the sound and light and temporary-ness of this world entirely.
This is the lesson I keep coming back to in this current season of extreme busyness in my life. Most of the busyness could be shut down in an instant. The tasks, the deadlines, the meetings and daily urgencies keep the world big and frentic and noisy, a distraction. A faux abundant life.
I discovered the nature of true abundance in that bedroom as my mom was dying. A conversation with a friend. The sight of my children’s faces. My husband’s laughter. My grandsons. And a single moment, maybe driving on the highway, where eternity breaks in. It’s thatclose.
Jesus is thatclose.