86400

Odd title, I know. Those numbers have resonated. This week’s sermon came from Luke 21:5-19, I think it went further than 19, however 19 is about the time I became distracted. Let’s back up for a minute. I am sitting by smic, No had an entire conversation prior to my arrival how he was not sitting by me this morning, that makes me laugh. So, No was sitting between Smic and Hank. Hank was trying to talk to me across the pew. I could not hear a darn word Hank was saying, Smic was having to relay what Hank was saying. None of which was super pressing. Going back even a few minutes prior, I walked in and was harassing one of the church ladies handing out the itinerary (I do not know the proper name for it), somehow, I had turned the flashlight on my phone on, I seen Hank laughing, not unusual. I realized my flashlight was on; I truthfully think that I realized it because it reflected the bright light off of Hank’s extra-large shinny forehead and was blinding me. He, in a quiet, excited yell, tells me that I am blinding him. I did not tell Hank about it blinding me from his shinny big forehead, once in a while, I have to let Hank have a wise crack.

Verse 19 was about the time I noticed what I call a ladybug zooming around the light around the pulpit. I am literally like a cat watching a red light, I cannot stand flying bugs. Much like a kamikaze, this ladybug, dive bombs downward toward the pastor. It never goes all of the way down to land on his super shinny forehead. Even though the ladybug never hits him, with my vast imagination, I can picture it hitting him, ok, well I may have been secretly cheering the little ladybug on. Not in a malicious way, more of a oh my goodness I may die from laughter if the little ladybug pings off of his head. Good ol’ Smic, always ruining my imagination, she elbows me and asks me what I am doing. I must have been doing more than just following the ladybug with my eyes. I thought I was being discreet. I whisper to Smic, there is a ladybug up there zooming around the light by the pulpit. Smic then follows where I am looking. Now Smic, she can try to whisper all she wants; she does not possess the ability to whisper; she has one of those voices that carries. Not to mention she is laughing. She said that it is not a ladybug, ladybugs are red, that it is a potato bug, they bite. Ummmm,….. Smic, I really do not care what it is, flying bugs annoy me. Plus, I am secretly hoping that it lands on the Pastors shinny head. I cannot tell Smic that, she will start cackling super loud. Smic proceeds to point out that there are several more on other lights. That kind of ruined my moment of watching the singular LADYBUG, doing the kamikaze business around the pulpit. I notice one walking on the end of the pew in front of me, Smic seen that I noticed it, she starts chuckling. I use my “itinerary” to flip it onto the floor. Then I noticed another one walking along the top of a hymnal. I do not remember what I used to flip it with, but it apparently hit Smic, oops, Smic is less than thrilled that I hit her with the LADYBUG. She was less than thrilled for a few minutes while trying to locate where it went. She is quietly lecturing me. During her rant, I hear 86400. That is how many seconds are in a day. Now I am back paying attention. Well, kind of, I am wondering who did the math on that. Ok, pay attention, Life is the longest thing that any of us will ever do. It is also very short. How many times have I wasted 86400 seconds? The pastor really brought it into perspective. He compared it to your bank account. What would you do if you had 86400 dollars in your account every day? At the end of the day, anything unspent would be gone, however the next day, you get a fresh 86400 dollars. We would spend that 86400 dollars to make our lives better. His words, not mine. I was thinking that I would have no idea what anyone could spend 86400 dollars a day on.  It took a parable for me to understand how I have wasted a good amount of my life on things that simply do not matter. Just as if it were money, once a second is spent, it cannot ever be gotten back. I found myself throughout the day today wondering what I have to show for all of the seconds spent. Things do not necessarily matter to me; things come and go. I cannot take things with me when I die. What will I leave behind? I have pondered on that question for quite some time. Truthfully, I do not necessarily care about the “things”. I care more about what the memory I have left behind will look like.

That is probably why I can find humor in just about anything. I am the person you do not want to sit next to at a funeral, or anywhere that is serious in nature.

 There are moments when I do not find anything at all funny. Moments that I am definitely not proud of. Such a waste of 86400 seconds. Life is hard. Most of which is caused by the stressors that we place on ourselves. We allow all of the wrong things at the top of our daily to do list. I personally get lazy and complacent with what is important. First and foremost, I on a consistent basis need to put God first (you can put whomever or whatever you believe in first). I consistently need to spend some of my 86400 praying, (I better not get on my knees to do so, I am old, fat, and busted up, I will not be able to get up). I need to spend more time reading my bible. I believe that each and every one of us are created and born to serve a purpose. We may never know what that purpose is. Once your purpose has been served, your 86400 seconds are no longer refilled. That can be, if I allow it, a daunting thought, that one day, life will go on without me here. Will I have served my purpose to the fullest? I doubt it. If by some miracle, I reach the pearly gates, I have a lot of explaining to do. A lot of wrong doings to account for. Just as in the beginning of this blog, things that others find funny that I say and do are generally accidental, sometimes I too am shocked at what comes out of my mouth. I also have that same skill on the opposite end of the spectrum. I can say very harsh words, or not say anything at all which to some is more hurtful than the harsh words. These are the things that constantly tumble around in my pea sized damaged brain. I write for a lot of reasons, for one, to organize my thoughts. Another reason I write, what if there is one person out there that can get one positive thing out of my writing? Writing is therapeutic to me; the good lord knows that I need all of the therapy I can get! It allows me to figuratively put down some of the burdens that I place on myself. I have found that once I have written about whatever is on my mind, I can leave it behind. I hope that I never forget 86400 nor the story that explained it perfectly to me. How do you want to spend your 86400?

Recap of the lesson: If you want to pay attention to the best of your ability, do not sit beside me. I am easily distracted which in turn will distract you.

Do not be like me, secretly hoping the kamikaze potato bug will ping off of the Pastors shinny head. Karma will get you; it got me when I became surrounded by potato bugs. Yes, I know there were only two, the pew and the hymnal, however it may as well have been an army.

Spend your 86400 wisely, we will never know when the refills will run out!

Toodle-loo