My mom lived 27,341 days. She was born in 1947, just a few years after World War 2 and at the start of the baby boom. No one, except God, knew the day of her death.

Have you ever added up the number of days that you have lived?

You might be wondering, “Why does this matter?” God tells us the humans live about 70-80 years on this planet (Psalm 90:10). The average human life span is approximately 78 years. Three thousand years ago God predicted how long each human will live.

Some humans will live longer than 78 years, while others will die far sooner than this age. The Bible teaches us that if we live at least 70-80 years on this planet, we should consider ourselves blessed. Back to the question: “Why does this matter?” In this same Psalm, God commands us:

Teach us to number our days that we may gain a heart of wisdom (Psalm 90:12).

In other words, we are to count our days in order to make our days count. If we never take the time to pause and think about how precious our time is on this planet, then we will waste too many days, hours, minutes and seconds with thoughts and actions that do not matter.

How many days have you lived? How many do you have left? You might not know the exact number of days you have left, but if you are sixty years old, you must come to terms that you have lived more days already than what you have left. The older you get, the more you should count your days, because each day becomes more precious.

I am going to admit something that I haven’t shared until now. You are the first to hear of this. When we are going through difficulties and we desire God to help us, we bargain with Him. We make a promise to God in exchange for something we want. It is common for humans to engage in this kind of negotiation with God.

During the days that my mom was in the hospital, my main prayer was for her to heal and get back to her normal life. Several weeks into her sickness, I started to pray for my mom to receive five extra years. My logic was simple: I could handle her dying at age 80, but age 75 seemed too soon. Of course, I would love to have seen her live to be a 100, but I didn’t want to get greedy.

I wanted another five years with my mom. I wanted her to walk this earth 1,825 more days. That doesn’t seem like too much to ask. I wasn’t asking for five thousand. Just a little less than two thousand days.

I thought about how God added fifteen years (5,475 days) to King Hezekiah’s life when he was ill (2 Kings 20:6) and rationalized in my mind that asking God for only five years was not too much to ask. I prayed this prayer silently, hoping that God already had plans to extend my mom’s life.

One moment when I was gripped with the fear of losing her, I called out to God and gave Him permission to take five years off of my life so that she could have those five years that were for me. I was willing to trade five years at the end of my life (not knowing when that would be) for just five more with my mom. If God would have granted this request, I would have had five more years with my mom here on this earth and would then get to see her in heaven five years earlier. But it just doesn’t work that way.

I was trying to bargain with God.

But man has no leverage to use in order to change God’s plan. I have been a pastor for twenty years, I’ve been to seminary, I know correct theology. I should have known better than to ask God to trade a few years of my life for a few years of her life. I should have been more mature in knowing that this was not the right prayer to present to God. But in the midst of my weakness, I tried to negotiate more time with my mommy.

I don’t think my desperate prayer offended God or made Him gasp with surprise. He could see within my heart that I longed for more time with my mom. It was so hard to see her unhealthy and helpless on the hospital bed for several months.

If God would have granted me one more day with her when she was healthy, how would I want to spend it? I sometimes wish I could have just one more day with my mom.  

One more day sitting on the beach in Florida.

One more day riding bikes around Mackinaw Island.

One more day riding in the parade with all the grandkids.

One more day eating cashews in Brown County.

One more day attending my daughter’s basketball game together.

One more day eating Sunday dinner at the homestead.

These “days” will never happen again. She is in heaven. I am on earth.

93 days. Since my mom’s death. Many of these days I have been filled with sadness that has a hard time enjoying the good things this life has to offer. Don’t get me wrong, I still laugh and smile with others and I try to engage in fun activities, but there seems to be a cap on my ability to experience happiness.

I am about 75% happy in the moment when I know that I should be 100% happy. It seems that as soon as I am enjoying a moment, a memory about my mom enters my mind and creates an inner sadness. I am happy, but not totally.

This last week I was explaining this to one of my best friends over a subway sandwich. Over the last year, he had lost two loved ones to death. One older. One younger. He knew exactly how I was feeling, for he has worked through the same emotions. He gave me some good advice that I want to share with you that has actually helped me the last few days.

He said, “You have so many wonderful memories of your mom. She is in heaven now and you miss her dearly. Do you think she wants you to be overwhelmed with sadness, or do you think she wants you to find joy when you reminisce about her life? Your mom wishes you to take hold of these present moments of life and enjoy them right now. That would make her happy in heaven.”

I had not thought about that since her death. As she is watching me, she does not desire to see me overwhelmed with sadness, but instead to take hold of the moment and enjoy it fully. Her death reminds me the fleeting reality of this life.

Remember how short my life is (Psalm 89:47).

We are never promised tomorrow. On the morning of September 11, 2001, 2,763 people woke up not knowing it was their last day on earth. When I think about how short life is, I picture the World Trade Center and all the humans that perished on that tragic day. That is a day that shaped me. Make this day count. Count your blessings. Bless others while you can.

There is a time to grieve, and for the rest of my life, I will have a hurt in my heart for my mom’s presence, but if I allow the sadness to rob me of happiness for too long, I will be gone from this earth also and have many regrets of wasted days filled with melancholy.

Your life is like the morning fog—its here a little while, then it’s gone (James 4:14).

The words of my friend are working within my heart. This morning, as I opened my eyes to begin this day, this verse arose from my memory to the forefront of my mind:

This is the day the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it (Psalm 118:24).

As a young kid, I memorized this verse. As an adult with more than 16,000 days to my credit, the Holy Spirit knew that I needed to be reminded of this truth in the early morning.

God has made this beautiful day. This day will be over quickly. Will you rejoice and be glad in it? Or will you waste it? The choice is yours. For me, I choose to be glad today. Fully in the moment.