Preciousness of Life

I strive. I run faster. I run further. I reach in my career. I reach in my family life. I reach in my music playing.

I encourage each of my sons to reach. I encourage each person I mentor to strive. All of this is focused on attainment.

Attainment is wonderful.

Attainment without love is meaningless.

Attainment without a sense of why one is attaining and a moral guide leaves me nowhere.

I am lucky to have the love and the sense of why and the moral guide.

But sometimes I forget how easily those can slip away.

How life itself can be taken from us.

Yesterday, I read that a colleague lost his eight year old son—to what was thought to have been a blood infection.

I have been known to have little to speak. I rarely find myself at a loss for written words. Yesterday was such a day. Other than “I am so sorry” there are no words that I could think of to express the devastation of having a child die at such a tender age.

I will end this morning not with my own words but with the words of my colleague. And then I will take a moment of silence. In his wisdom, my colleague wrote, “It wasn't what God said to Job that mattered, it was that he spoke. We wait to hear his voice.”

Missing

As I look back over my blog entries in this blog since the start of Lent, I find that I am one short or there is one missing.  It was the day after the marathon.  I don't recall why there is one missing from that day, but I figure today is an excellent day to make up for that.  And, I might as well ponder things that are missing.

Certainly there is not a lot missing in my life.  Beautiful wife.  Three wonderful sons.  Success in my career.  Success and enjoyment in my hobbies--including running, playing music at church, and cooking.

And, yet, in almost all of those I can still find something missing.  A missing piece that would make things even better.  A better understanding of my kids, their interests, and what they need?  Is it more time?  More advice?  More undivided attention when I give them my attention?

For my running, I think that the missing piece all wintere long was a focus on something other than my own running as I ran long slow distances.  The distances go much more easily when they are run with someone. I bet they would also go more easily if I focused on something other than the running.  Although not to the complete exclusion of concern about my body.

Playing music--there is plenty missing that could make it better, although I think I have been improving.

There is always room to improve my cooking.

There is always room to improve at work.

And, even after 20 years, I think that Sherry and I in some ways are only beginning to truly undersand each other.  Particularly, how what makes us tick is likely to change over the next 20 years.

So, in everything in life, I can seek what is missing, and work to improve my life by addressing those issues head on.