A sudden crack of noise broke the early morning silence. I later learned that it was the electrical fuse. Having had neighbors who almost had small fires in their homes make us a bit too paranoid. This time was no exception. We spoke of moving again. My mother hastily called a handyman. After an hour, all was fixed. The lights were back. We started plugging in. But then, the culprit, a wet extension socket peed on by our cat, was unknowingly plugged in. Another spark and boom. Down went the electricity again. This time my mom decided to call a true electrician. But this time, she had to wait for he lives far. She was nervous but I felt I couldn't just wait with her and my brother. I must go to work. I left.
And so I hailed a cab.
My routine of settling inside a cab was shattered. A split second was all it took. The images are vivid. From the window I saw the tricycle hurtling across the road. After being hit or having hit the cab, I truly don’t know, it flew slightly above the ground, turning to its right, to its left, once again to the right, and finally settling on the ground. Like puppets, the driver and the back passenger, flew from their seats, crumpling at the gutter, in pain. Twice I saw the upper body of the unfortunate woman, bobbing in and out of the sidecar.
I was told to get out of the cab. I saw no blood but they were walking in pain. The taxi driver took them in, to bring them to the nearest hospital.
I hesitated. Are these signs? Should I go home, with tail between my legs, and just try to hide from this chaotic world? Or should I hail another cab, go to work and uncover a semblance of composure? My question was answered readily. An available cab arrived. It was easier to just get in and breathe than to take the walk back home or worse, ride a tricycle.
Inside, I tried to settle my heart. The beating did stop. But the things that have happened so early in the morning made me think.
I almost died once. I have no recollection of that DAY. There were no images to haunt me. But this recent accident, so similar in some ways made me ask myself : am I ready to die? In a vehicular accident? In a fire? Drowned at sea? Shot by a stray bullet? Plane crash? Food poisoning?
I wavered. I admitted that I think I am not. There was a time in my life that I felt I could be ready anytime, even happy to go. But not on that day. The reasons? Maybe I am enjoying my life too much? Maybe I want to do so many things still? Or horror of horrors, am I not spiritually ready?
And so I prayed. That God would make ready. It might be morbid to think about it but truly all of us would die. It is just a matter of time, place and cause of death. I do not want to have any regrets. That I have not done what has been ordained for me to do. That I wasted my precious short time on earth on things that do not eternally matter. I want to be ready whenever He has decided that I have fulfilled my purpose on earth.
Life is fragile. Life is short. Instantly, like snuffing out a candle, life goes black. There isn’t going to be a next Lazarus until the day He comes back. There are no second chances. I can only be ready if my heart is right with Him. I can only be ready if I am doing what He want me to do. I can only be ready if there are no ifs and buts.
I want to be ready. I hope I will always be ready.
And so I hailed a cab.
My routine of settling inside a cab was shattered. A split second was all it took. The images are vivid. From the window I saw the tricycle hurtling across the road. After being hit or having hit the cab, I truly don’t know, it flew slightly above the ground, turning to its right, to its left, once again to the right, and finally settling on the ground. Like puppets, the driver and the back passenger, flew from their seats, crumpling at the gutter, in pain. Twice I saw the upper body of the unfortunate woman, bobbing in and out of the sidecar.
I was told to get out of the cab. I saw no blood but they were walking in pain. The taxi driver took them in, to bring them to the nearest hospital.
I hesitated. Are these signs? Should I go home, with tail between my legs, and just try to hide from this chaotic world? Or should I hail another cab, go to work and uncover a semblance of composure? My question was answered readily. An available cab arrived. It was easier to just get in and breathe than to take the walk back home or worse, ride a tricycle.
Inside, I tried to settle my heart. The beating did stop. But the things that have happened so early in the morning made me think.
I almost died once. I have no recollection of that DAY. There were no images to haunt me. But this recent accident, so similar in some ways made me ask myself : am I ready to die? In a vehicular accident? In a fire? Drowned at sea? Shot by a stray bullet? Plane crash? Food poisoning?
I wavered. I admitted that I think I am not. There was a time in my life that I felt I could be ready anytime, even happy to go. But not on that day. The reasons? Maybe I am enjoying my life too much? Maybe I want to do so many things still? Or horror of horrors, am I not spiritually ready?
And so I prayed. That God would make ready. It might be morbid to think about it but truly all of us would die. It is just a matter of time, place and cause of death. I do not want to have any regrets. That I have not done what has been ordained for me to do. That I wasted my precious short time on earth on things that do not eternally matter. I want to be ready whenever He has decided that I have fulfilled my purpose on earth.
Life is fragile. Life is short. Instantly, like snuffing out a candle, life goes black. There isn’t going to be a next Lazarus until the day He comes back. There are no second chances. I can only be ready if my heart is right with Him. I can only be ready if I am doing what He want me to do. I can only be ready if there are no ifs and buts.
I want to be ready. I hope I will always be ready.
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