Learning from Lyman

I recently posted about my friend Lyman. He recently turned 94 years old. Man...94. That’s impressive.

Spending time with him over the last year has really made me look at life differently.  I mean, my default is to look through my 26-year-old optimist glasses.  It’s easy to assume that my health will always be this good, that I’ll land a job that I love, that I will settle down, marry someone, have kids, and have it all at the end of my life. But, again, that’s the 26-year-old optimism coming out.

Which makes me think: what if God wanted to keep me on this earth until I was 94? I thought looking at Lyman’s life would help me answer this question.  I thought about it, and it’s sobering: 

+He met countless people over the decades…but most of them have passed away. 

+He gets to spend time with his wife everyday, but she has dementia and it limits what she can do.

+He will never be kicked out of this assisted living facility, but his lifetime savings is quickly running out.

+He has collected lots of stuff over the years, but had to get rid of most of it when he moved into the assisted living facility.

+He will probably be in his current room until he passes away.

At 94, Lyman is living a best case scenario.  At 94, most of what he has accomplished or accumulated is gone.  At 94, Lyman says he’s ready for the Lord to take him any day.

looking at my life

Like I said, he has made me look at life a little differently.  I have to ask myself: what am I shooting for in life? To be rich? To meet famous people? To manage a successful business?  Well, what happens when I turn 94?

-My money will run out.

-People won’t know the celebrities I met.

-My business will change hands and I won’t be a part of it anymore.  Maybe I’ll have a picture by a plaque, or a bust made of me.  Maybe. 

So, that's it?  The riches, the fame, the power...that's what inevitably happens? Like an elaborately decorated sandcastle, it all eventually collapses and turns to dust. 

I think I knew this before, but hanging out with Lyman has really driven it home for me.  His life is the best-case scenario.  I probably won’t outdo him if I live to be 94.

It’s hard to put my hope in earthly things if they are temporary.  I know that on some level they don’t truly satisfy, but Lyman has helped me see that they don’t last either.

the desire behind the desire

But so many of us seek things like money, fame and power. Why?  What’s the promise behind them? I’m convinced that it’s two things: security and significance.

We want security, a relief that everything is going to be ok, that we are safe, that our deepest needs and longings will ultimately be met.  I want to be loved in a way that affirms the core of who I am.

We want significance, a sense that what I do actually matters, that I can make a difference in the long run. I want to have a reason to get up each day—a sense that I’m doing more than crafting sandcastles that will fall sooner or later.

The whole “running-after-money-fame-and-power” thing is an attempt to get security and significance.  And they don’t pull through for us ultimately.  We are disappointed with the things of this world.

what truly matters

But that’s where the message of the Gospel hits home so deeply.  It is the good news of security. As a Christian, I know God made me his Son through Christ’s sacrifice, that I am in his family and he cares for me.  Not only that, my deepest need for love is met in him eternally.  I can’t be sure that people will always come through for me. And those that do can only meet my needs so far.  But God made us for relationship with him. Without him, we feel a longing that can only be met by him.  When we invite him to satisfy us, he—and he alone—gives us a sense of security that goes deeper than anything we’ve ever known.  He made us for Himself, and we are restless until we rest in him.

But the Gospel is the good news of significance too.  Our lives aren’t a futile exercise in sandcastle architecture.  We are part of his bigger, more eternal mission.  He chose us to bring the good news to others.  We know we can be fully known for who we are and loved anyway—now we share it with others. And long after this life has passed, our riches have been spent, and empires rise and fall, our lives will make an eternal difference.

Lyman has lived a long life.  When I look at his life, I can’t help but look at mine. I have to ask: what am I pouring my life into?  How much time am I spending building sandcastles? How much am I investing in eternal things? Am I living out God’s eternal satisfaction right now in my life? Am I sharing it with others?

Don’t get me wrong.

It's ok to make money.  We just have to be willing to let it go.

It's ok to be successful.   We just have to be willing to fail.

It's ok to become famous.  We just have to be willing to be forgotten.

And we must realize that in all of this, true security and significance is found in Christ.

Because when we save our life, we lose it.  But when we lose our life for Jesus, we truly, truly find it.