I found myself on the verge of tears as I read my morning devotional.
The author, Pam Kidd, tells of a time, after nearly drowning as a little girl, she saw parts of her “tiny life flashing across some faraway stage.” After this, her husband tells her “that some famous theologian once speculated that when we get to heaven, the first thing God says is, “‘Show me your slides.’”
Initially, that’s a scary thought for me.
What would my life look like in slides? Some I would like to erase. The horrible decisions I made when I was drinking, the fear on my face as I entered my first recovery meeting, the innocent employee I yelled at when my flight got rerouted, hearing my mom’s diagnosis of terminal pancreatic cancer, my mom taking her last breath as I held her hand, and all those times I thought of myself before thinking of anyone else.
But, then I see beautiful slides. Lazy days at the river as a little girl, school shopping with my mom and grandma, skiing with my dad, road trips with my mom, my husband proposing to me in a hammock, the excitement I had when I saw the plus sign on the pregnancy test, holding my daughter and son for the first time, the quiet evenings at home with my family, the happiness and contentment on my husband’s face after all we’ve been through together, my uninhibited laughter on a recent roller coaster ride and the pure joy of celebrating another sober birthday.
There are parts of my life I would like to change, but like any good story or film there are happy and sad parts. And, often it’s those sad parts that lead to the most joyful.
Going forward, I hope there will continue to be more happy slides of my life. Ones that will show me laughing more, being kind and gentle to those I love, being compassionate to strangers, enjoying the simple things like planting a garden or trying a new recipe, and working with other people in recovery towards our common goal of living a peaceful and sober life.
I hope that when I do, eventually, stand in front of God, He will watch the slides of my life and say, “Bravo! That was a life well lived!”
For more of Chenoa’s story, please visit her blog at www.lifecorked.com.