It is so common to hear the question, “If you had only one year to live, how would you live, or what would you do?” Or something of that sort.

I wonder though, maybe because hindsight is the greatest teacher, when told of Bill’s diagnosis, the flippant 6-12 months, likely six, how difficult it is to maneuver when an impending date of the end is on the calendar.

And, put health into perspective–unless you know you are taken away in some unexpected instance (which of course makes it no longer unexpected), and not long-term illness that gradually eats away at the days, energy, and wellbeing long before the end date, then it is difficult to anticipate what one would do with said amount of time.

Even then with feeling fine, the idea of eternity knocking at the door at a set time, even if we know where we are going– the landscape of there and when in our peripheral view just over the horizon, occupies space before we even enter the place.

Maybe that is why God set eternity on our hearts, without our end dates up front, because if we really knew that day, would we be able to fully live life in the present?

I know, I am rambling.

Last year, when I turned fifty, I made a grandiose attempt to live a full life again by filling my days with a list chalk full of difficult, mundane, silly, adventurous, etc. things in the hope it catapults me out of the depths of grief.

Hardly successful on paper–I completed eight. Yes, eight.

1. Serve in church.
2. Serve outside church.
3. Go to movies solo.
4. Master the over-easy egg. (Albeit, recent blood work shows sensitivity and am limited to once a week)
5. Become friends with my new neighbors.
6. Eat 100% whole foods for 30 days.
7. Read a book in one sitting.
8. Complete rough draft of book.

I know, hardly awe-inspiring here. But a shift occurred somewhere in the attempt, likely more to do with my vision statement and not necessarily the list itself:

My goal is to love me fully – using my days completely – embracing adventure – finding rest – accomplishing more.

So, after leaving lists of this sort behind and focusing on my vision statement as a whole, an unexpected thought entered my mind about a different kind of list–actually a one-year project.

Four categories.

Three to each one.

I’m in the process of filling in the numbered slots.

Three destinations:

1. Europe in April with my girls. I was saving a big trip to celebrate Bill’s life at the five-year milestone, but in light of how life throws curve balls, I decided my landscape budget would be better spent on seeing some landscapes in another country.

Three things that scare me:

1. Superman at Six Flags. A no-brainer, I’ve had this on a list here and there since we moved here. I am petrified of roller coasters–especially ones that go upside down. But, I promise myself to get this one off the list as soon as possible. So the plan is to ride it at the end of the month when I return home from a short out-of-state trip. (Keep me accountable people!)

Three accomplishments just outside my reach:

1. Read a book a week for 52 weeks. Currently, a very long book titled, Maybe You Should Talk to Someone, about a therapist in therapy. So far reading it, I feel I’m in therapy myself. 🙂

Three individuals to inspire/invest in:

1. I am praying/seeking these three at the moment…

Last night I ventured out solo to the movies for a second time–saw Judy, based on the tragic life of Judy Garland. After leaving, the all-too-familiar lyrics fill me with hope and dreams and adventure still there for the living…

Somewhere over the rainbow
Bluebirds fly
And the dreams that you dream of
Dreams really do come true