One More Day

One more day is all I ask.

They died over three years ago.  Eleven days apart.  My parents.  They are in my dreams many nights.  I look forward to seeing them there.  They’re well and happy.  In my dreams.

Since their loss, I think about them often.  I’ve finally realized what I would like to have from them.  One day.  Just one more day with them.  And I get to choose the day.

I can see the day.  In my mind.  It’s a day from my childhood.  Not one specific day.  But a day that was like any other.  It would be a summer day.  My dad, the farmer, and my brothers would be working in the fields.  On their tractors with the hot sun beating down on them.  They would take a fresh jug of ice water with them to parch the thirst that was sure to come as they worked in the heat.

My mom, my sisters and I would pack a lunch for the family.  We would fry hamburgers or make bologna salad sandwiches.  Wrap them in wax paper.  Grab a couple bags of chips, doritos or fritos.  Pull out a box of twinkies, ding dongs or chocodiles.  Nothing fancy.  Fill a refresher jug of water.  And we would hit the road.  The country roads.

We would drive to the field one of the guys would be working in and park under a shade tree.  As the tractors pulled up, we would pop down the back door of the station wagon.

We would thank God and then eat that simple meal.  Together.  Just our family.  Not a special day.   Just a typical summer day.  I didn’t know it then.  But it was the life.  A simple, quiet unassuming life.  Not an easy life.  Not for my parents.  But it was the life.

Oh, the questions I would ask them.  If I had only known that I would lose them.  Oh.  I knew I would lose them.  But I wasn’t prepared.  I wasn’t prepared for all the questions that would fill my mind.  Questions  I never got around to asking.  I wasn’t prepared for all the stories I wanted to hear.  The lessons they had learned.  The do-overs they wanted.  Maybe even the regrets. The stories of their childhoods.  I’ll never hear all those stories now.  I’ll never have all my questions answered.


And He walks with me
And He talks with me
And He tells me I am His own
And the joy we share as we tarry there
None other has ever known

~~Ed Bruce


I realize now that there’s someone else I need to spend more time with.  There’s someone who calls for me to get to know him.  To ask those questions.  To hear his thoughts.  To read his Word.  While there’s still time.  Because there still is time.  Right now.

He calls me to spend each day with him.  He calls my name.  Sometimes I’m too busy.  I just don’t take time for him.  Sometimes I ignore him.  Oh.  He’ll still be here when I’m ready.  That’s what I tell myself.

He’s calling me to get to know him more.  To spend valuable time with him.  Each day.  Not just when I feel like it.  Not just when I need something.  But to spend time building a closer relationship with Him.

I’d like to imagine a day with him.  First, I would read his love letter.  He wrote a book telling me of his never ending love.  His perfect plans.  His gift of sacrifice.  I would thank him for those things.  His love.  His plans.  His sacrifice.  I would ask for wisdom.  I would listen for him to speak to me.  I would be silent and just listen.

I would walk among nature.  I would see the trees and flowers, fruits and vegetables.  The beauty that he created.  I would feel the warmth of the sun and the cool breeze.  I would see the stars and moon later in the evening.  Knowing he created this for me.

It’s not too late to spend more time with my Maker. The lover of my soul. The forgiver of my sins.  The God of the universe.

One more day.  One more day is all I ask.

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