How should we then live?

Use your good dishes...
make lots of messes...
want what you have...
Turn up the music...
Turn it up loud...
take a few chances...
Go to the ballgames...
kiss all your children...
dance with your wife...
tell your husband you love him, every night!
Don't run from the truth...
make peace with God...
in the end, there's nobody else...
~Point of Grace, How You Live

We turn it up, once a day: dance hour in the morning, the loudest and craziest music the kids crave, turned way up and break-dancing and hip hop moves all around. We take chances, rainwater rushing through culverts as we feel the pull of the current on our tall boots. We go to the uncles' ballgames, we kiss so many times a day, we dance, and we tell each other we love, we look the truth of cancer treatments and consequent separations in the eye. Our peace is in God, we know He is the beginning and end, the Alpha and Omega. Still, I find myself ransacking my memory, mulling over this day. Was it enough? What if it is the last season together? What if cancer shreds this reality, children running through mud puddles and splashing in February thaws with Mama? What if next February finds a sickbed, or a coffin? What purpose does that serve, God? What is your agenda, God? I ask this not in bitterness, or consternation. I struggle to align myself to the Truth laid before me. What shall I now do? How should I then live? What next, God? Where is the map?