Not so famous, not so last, words

As is sometimes the case with all men, my thoughts occassionally turn to my own mortality. Here is something I wrote on my iPhone on a recent trip to Oregon. Perhaps it was inspired by the turbulence of the flight, perhaps by a bad burrito, I don't know. Its not meant to be morbid, only a note the the future. I don't have a death wish, don't obsess over dying and do not, to my knowledge, have anything physically wrong with me. In fact, I'd like to live to be a hundred and twenty. I am, however, alert to the fact that such will not likely be the case, and as man knows not his time, here's a thought for those who follow, those I love...

Time comes for all men, and now it has come for me. Even as I pen these words I am cognizant of the fact that the Lord Most High has smiled on my life. If you are reading this after I have passed on, know that He smiles still.

I have done my best to life fully, abundantly, and though not perfect, it has been amazing. I have loved my family— Mandi, Alyssa, Nate, and Anna—with the hope that regardless of what their future holds, they will know that I am for them. I have all too often served myself and stand awestruck that God has allowed me the privilege of serving Him as He has. Like John Paul Jones, I regret that I have but one life to give.

What purpose my death may serve, God alone knows, but this one thing I know: God's purposes are always good, even when the frailty of human intellect fails to perceive them. May God bless and keep you as He has me, lo, these rich years of my life. Amen.