Saturday
morning, February 1, 2003, America awoke to another tragedy. We watched as the space
shuttle Columbia disintegrated upon reentry, scattering debris over Texas and
Louisiana as it tumbled to the earth. We waited for confirmation of what was a
near certainty. The seven crewmembers were lost. They left space Saturday,
February 1, 2003 eager to see their families, but they never made it.
There seems to be a mass of shock and bewilderment at this, another American
tragedy. Yet, I ask myself, Why are we shocked? Unexpected disasters
have been surprising man since the beginning of time. The wicked men and women
of this world who perished in the flood never saw the rain coming. When Mount
Vesuvius erupted in 79 AD, all of the 3500 inhabitants of Pompeii were caught
completely by surprise. On March 6, 1945 when the Enola Gay dropped the atomic
bomb on Hiroshima, 130,000 men, women and children died instantaneously. There
was no warning.
If you stop and think about it, tomorrow has always been a mystery. We have
never really known what it holds for us. We plan and schedule as if it were a
fact. We spend all of our lives saving and working toward some type of goal.
When did we start to see the average life expectance of 72 as a promise? “Yet
you do not know what your life will be like tomorrow.” James 4:14. We live and
behave as if tomorrow was a guarantee. That was never the case.
The life that we have lived is all that we have. When I look back over the past
39 years, I realize there may be no more. Tomorrow is a possibility and if it
comes, I will make the most of it. But it is a possibility, not a promise. I
may live to see my expected 72 years of sunrises, but if I don’t, what will I
see when I open my eyes in eternity? What will you see if tomorrow never comes?