My weekend

I laugh as I watch the blond haired two year old boy walking on the white line of the soccer field. He pushes his limits as he crosses the line, all the while looking back at his mother to see how far he can go. I'm reminded what a fine line it is... that line that we all walk. There are always times we cross that line. That line of good and bad. That line of right and wrong. The line of righteousness and sin. All the while, we are looking around, waiting for someone to tell us we've gone too far, but not really wanting to hear it.

I watch as a 27 year old single mom lays unresponsive in an ICU bed. One bad decision will have a disasterous consequence for her. I watch as her mother lays her head on the bed, screaming for her child to wake up. She doesn't move. I watch their faces as I explain what brain death means. I watch an entire family melt into nothingness. I watch as her five year old son comes to see her for the last time, saying, "I love you Mommy. Have fun."

I watch co-workers with tears in their eyes for the first time in years. I hear them say how lucky they are to be alive. I hear confessions of poor choices that we all have made that led to nothing more than a hangover or possibly a run in with the law.

I'm reminded so painfully that we are all lucky to be alive. We have all made poor choices in our lives. I'm reminded how important it is to not judge; it could have easily been any of us. I think of the two year old running along the white line... trying to get onto the forbidden soccer field. Crossing the line and then running back to safety. And I think of this poor young woman who crossed that line and won't be running back to safety. And I pray that she knew Jesus. And I weep.