What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes. – James 4:14

Recently a fellow blogger emailed me, wondering how I’ve been, since I haven’t posted lately. I was touched (and a little surprised) that I had been missed. In case anyone else has wondered “where I’ve been,” here’s a partial explanation:

I have been writing, just different things – correspondence with my church regarding an outreach I’m heading up, a message for a speaking engagement in February, and sadly, my memories about some old friends who have passed – “old” in both the sense that I have known them for a long, long time, and so they were somewhat “old,” like me.

Sandy, the youngest, would have turned 65 yesterday, which I would have considered “old” as a teenager, but now that I’m racing through my seventies, 65 seems young. I first met Sandy in a youth group I led fifty years ago. She asked the most questions, had the most enthusiasm for whatever we were doing, and seemed the “hungriest” to know God. We kept in touch after she graduated and moved away, and when she met the love of her life, Paul, I traveled across the state to be her matron of honor and to sing a song I had written (one of my best) for their wedding.

When Marty and I lived in Port Huron, Michigan, traveling to Manistee frequently during the summer, Sandy and Paul lived in Bay City, at about the halfway point. So, whenever I was driving alone, I would stop and meet them to “catch up” over lunch. When our Kelly came along about the same time as Sandy and Paul’s Luke, our party grew by two highchairs, one for Kelly and one for “Ute.” Later it was booster chairs, but getting together with those three remained a happy tradition. About two decades and a couple of moves later, Kelly and I traveled to Indiana for Luke’s wedding, and Sandy and Paul came to Michigan shortly after for Kelly’s wedding. When we had moved to Louisville, Sandy and Paul had moved to Goshen, Indiana, still the halfway point to Manistee! This drive was longer, so I would stop for the night. Sandy and I would do our “catching up” into the wee hours of the morning, trying not to wake Paul.

I saw Sandy just once or twice a year, but whenever I did, we would just pick up where we left off. Other than Christmas and birthday cards, we didn’t correspond a lot, so when Paul texted me from Sandy’s phone, “Sandy went to heaven yesterday,” I was shocked. I hadn’t even known she was sick. (I had known her sister was sick. She was the one I wrote about a few months ago. https://seekingdivineperspective.com/2025/10/30/nyah-nyah-and-i-mean-that-in-the-best-way/ ) Once more I traveled to Goshen, this time to share my memories of Sandy at her memorial service. I thought her mother must be devastated with the loss of two daughters within a couple of months. But when I arrived at the church, I learned that she too had gone to heaven, less than a week after Sandy. I imagined those three together again, having the party of their lives. (I tried not to be miffed that I hadn’t been invited – yet).

In February I learned George had departed. George was a classmate of mine … sort of. He attended the all-boys school next door to the all-girls school I attended. We had class together only once, in our senior year, when the schools combined for English classes. Both schools also worked together on theatrical productions. I worked backstage when George had a role in the musical at the boys’ school. Later he was a singing pirate, and I was a major-general’s daughter in “The Pirates of Penzance” at my school. George was one of those super-nice guys, funny, easy to be around (not “cool” or intimidating), and liked by virtually everyone who knew him. I’m sorry I won’t see him at our reunion next month. I would like to have thanked him for making my high school years a little more fun – and a little more bearable. Sometimes I didn’t like myself much, but talking to George made me feel more like I was someone worth liking.

Days later, the news came about John, another sort-of classmate, a gregarious guy and outstanding athlete, who suffered cardiac arrest suddenly while working out. That was truly shocking, and it still seems surreal to me. John’s family and mine had been friends since before I was born – school, church, even going on vacations together. And now there’s one more face I won’t see at the reunion.

As I wrote out my memories of George and John in the class email, I couldn’t help thinking, We’re at that age where this is not going to be uncommon. Do we think we’re going to live here forever? So, I added a P. S. to my eulogy:

“For those of you who are still on the fence about coming to the reunion, thinking you might ‘sit this one out’ … maybe next time…’ stop and ask yourself how many ‘next times’ we have. Even for those of us who have to travel to get there, reconnecting with one another is well worth the extra effort. I have never regretted going to a reunion.”

But more important than “reconnecting” with one another is asking yourself if you are ready to be the next one we say goodbye to. This life, I’m finding more and more, is fleeting and unpredictable. We can’t put off forever the most crucial decision of all:

What will you do with Jesus? Will you reject Him, tolerate Him, ignore Him, or bow to Him as LORD and Savior?

Your answer to that question will determine whether or not you will be at the Great Reunion in heaven that will last for all eternity. Whatever you do, don’t miss that one!

Prayer: Lord, for some reason we need constant reminding of the brevity of life and the consequences of our choices. Make us aware of Your holiness, our sinfulness, Your offer of grace, and Your sacrifice to make that gift possible. Help us to live accordingly, so that when this life is over, we will have no regrets. In Jesus’ name, amen.