Is This All There Is, My Friends?

The sounds of my daughter's violin lesson floated through the green door as I sat and waited in the hallway. Students emptied into the corridors as class came to an end. Laughter, singing, and jokes prevailed. It must have been a good class.

Soon I noticed him, his slightly bent over figure shuffling slowly down the hall. I watched as he purposely meandered along, taking in every posting on each bulletin board passed, absorbing details, memorizing the sounds of the students all around. When he was within earshot, I called his name, retrieving him from his reverie.

"Oh, hello there," he responded. Long pause as he collected his thoughts. "I just gave the last test to the last class I will ever teach." He hesitated and coaxed forth a half-smile. Emotions were pulling him.

He continued with his explanation. "'Why do you do it?' my wife asked me. 'Because I like the kids and working with them,' I told her. But she's right. It's not fair to her. She wants to have time to travel and do things. So, now we can."

But his faraway look let me in on his secret. He faced the future with some uncertainty, feeling as though his purpose in life was being left behind. For untold years this was all he had ever known; this was his identity, and here he felt valued and affirmed.

Oh, that he might know the Lord's affirmation. Oh, that he might live for His purposes which are never left behind. Oh, that his future might be faced with assurance and confidence.

How sad to face the end without knowing. How empty and lonely.

And how precious to me today is knowledge of His salvation.