Number My Days
This year it happened on Wednesday, September 22, at 3:20 p.m. You probably didn’t notice, but I did. I almost always notice when it happens, because in the past, that day has affected my quality of life.
On September 22nd, the earth experienced its annual autumnal equinox; more popularly known as the beginning of fall. At the autumnal equinox, the day and night are equal in length. After the autumnal equinox, nights get longer and days get shorter. To put it bluntly, since September 22nd, our part of the earth has plunged deeper and deeper into darkness and will continue to do so for the next few months.
For years I dreaded the unset of fall. On the first day of fall I’d tell my wife, “It’s coming.”
“What’s coming?” she’d ask.
“The cold and darkness of winter is coming and tomorrow will be colder and darker than today.”
My wife, who loves fall and winter, would encourage me to be more optimistic, but her words of optimism seldom changed my mood.
You see, I hate the dark. I hate knowing the sun will disappear before I have eaten my evening meal, and that I will rise to my new day shrouded in darkness. I don’t like the cold. I hate having to be restricted by hats, coats, and gloves. In the winter, I always feel like I’m trying to find a place of comfort to escape that bone-chilling draft that makes joints and muscles ache. I’m thankful I live in the southern part of this hemisphere, where darkness and cold doesn’t completely overtake the warmth and light of day. It’s hard for me to imagine experiencing winter in places like Alaska, brutally frigid places where the sun is given permission to show its face for only a couple hours each day.
Several years ago, as I was lamenting the onset of fall’s darkness and cold, I had an epiphany, a surprising awareness of God’s presence. It came to me as I was reading these words from Psalm 90:12. Teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom. As I read those words I sensed God saying to me, “To each I’ve given a measure of days. Half are lived in summer and spring. The other half are lived in winter and fall. The wise will cherish all of his days. The fool will choose which days to dread.”
God really spoke to me through this Psalm, and since then, I’ve tried to number my days, realizing that some will be cold; others will be hot. Some will be filled with darkness; others will be bathed in light; but all of my days are gifts from God; gifts to be cherished; gifts to be embraced. Yes, all of my days are gifts from God to be lived out in the fullness of God’s time.
As I began to number my days I experienced fall and winter with a new attitude. Instead of dreading dark, cold days I became thankful for them, even though they were not the days I preferred. With grateful eyes I began to marvel at the fall colors as they slowly crept down the mountain side, painting the horizon with swatches of red, orange, yellow and gold. I found the clean, crisp air of autumn to be invigorating. I found new joy in watching the dance of snowflakes, and I began to appreciate that special quietness that envelopes the earth on the crest of the new-fallen snow. On dark winter nights I found new comfort in the warmth of a fireplace and watched with fascination the embers as they glowed. Yes, fall and winter look and feel differently since I’ve learned to number my days.
At age 71, I realize I don’t have many days left, so I’m not going to waste any of them. Instead, I’ve chosen to view every day as a special day, a blessing given by a loving God. Yes, life is different now since I’ve learned to number my days.
