“And He died for all so that those who live should no longer live for themselves, but for the One who died for them and was raised.” 2 Corinthians 5:15
I felt so grown up. I had landed a college internship in a glassy office building in downtown Orlando, Florida. Every morning that summer, I got dressed up in hose and heels and drove down I-4 passed Orlando’s sky scrapers, the rising sun reflecting off the buildings and bathing my world in gold. I filled the car with the music of David Meese, and I belted out this out chorus right along with him:
“I want to live for you, for the rest of my life, for the rest of my life! And I want to give to you all the rest of my life, the rest of my life!”
My future seemed as vast a Florida’s flawless blue skies, and I dedicated the whole of it to Him. The trouble is, futures aren’t like that. They aren’t flawless. And they aren’t whole. “The rest of my life” is not one big unit I can dedicate to God at one point in time and be over with it.
In the decades that have passed since that sunny summer, I’ve lived some moments for God. I’ve lived others for myself. And I’ve realized that the whole of “the rest of my life” is made up of a myriad of isolated moments, each of them requiring a choice. Will I, in this present moment, live for the One who died for me and was raised, or will I live for myself?
So, when it is late at night and the house is quiet, in this moment, will I choose to think God-honoring thoughts? Or will I let my mind wonder down frivolous or sinful paths?
When the person who has deeply hurt me – and hasn’t even thought to apologize – is standing before me, scowling, in this moment, will I choose to forgive as Christ commanded? Or will I live for myself and hold my self-righteous grudge?
When I finish ordering lunch at the cute little bistro and settle in for a chat with a lost friend, in this moment, will I choose to share the gospel with her? Or will I avoid it, because a conversation about God might be socially awkward?
When I’m asked to give to missions, when I’m asked to participate in a church outreach project, when I have the choice to pray or watch T.V., in these moments, what will I choose?
Every one of those moments is a part of “the rest of my life.” And I only have the moment I’m living now. I am never promised another.
May I choose, in this moment, whatever it brings me, to live for the One who died for me and was raised.