Only One Chance and Soon I will be Gone

I want to live. I want to grow. I want to see. I want to know.
Only one chance and soon I will be gone.

Weighing heavy on my soul - what footprints have I left behind?
Flesh of my flesh, bone of my bone. Will you miss me when I am gone?

Did I live my life for foolish pursuit of self or instead, sacrifice for others?
Was selfishness and sin my constant companions?
Did my life matter to just one other human being?

Have I thought of myself or my God? How will I spend eternity?
Can I look into the eyes of my Creator without shame?
Have I tried my best? When I knew better, did I do better?
Only one chance and soon I will be gone.

Why do I let the urgent crowd out the divine?
What rapture to spend an hour in the presence of my Friend.
To hear His gentle voice - to feel His mighty strength coursing through my being.
Why do I abandon that wondrous privilege in exchange for meaningless prattle or mundane human activities?
I don’t know. Shortsightedness? Viewing life from this side of the divide?
How soon we forget. . . .
Only one chance and soon we will be gone.

In the deep recesses of my soul too often goodness and evil war.
Why can my heart not be brave to unreservedly abandon sin and cleave to good?
Is my heart dark, and evil, and scarred beyond hope?
Why do I resist letting God see my bared, naked soul? I am ashamed.
Only one chance and soon I will be gone.

Today I saw a blue jay on my porch - my personal sign from heaven.
Someday I will soar like that bird. Someday . . . . . . .
But will someday ever unfold into today? Will I ever be free like that bird?
Free from the iniquitous things inside me that no one knows or sees–
When will I allow Christ to shine into my darkened soul, when?
When will I surrender my will to His. When will I give up the struggle and accept peace.
Only one chance and soon I will be gone.

One day soon my future will be my past and priceless opportunities to live will have vanished.
As the years tick by toward the grave, I must. . . I must. . . I must remember. . . . .
Only one chance and soon I will be gone.

Thank you for this. Lots of emotions aroused - two are of loss and of thankfulness for one life as I remember John Denver from your first line which is the choris from his song,"I want to Live" and one is of hope for all our lives as we grow older.

I believe that the God who created us and forgives us when we falter understands better than we what is in our hearts. This is His world and He is in control. He has a plan for us that sometimes involves a zig-zag path to attainment. The true meaning of "Free Will" is that we have the ability to struggle against his plans for us or accept them in the belief that
ultimately he will provide what is best for us.

TS

Yes, thank you for this. Only one chance and soon we will be gone. How true. God sees all and knows all and no matter how we try to hide, he knows. We can hide in the deep recesses of our hearts, have all kinds of bad secrets and be ashamed of what we do, but he knows and is hurt. No matter how much we resist, he knows. That is the wonder of God, the God that I love. Reading this poem has prompted me to read your other posts. Such sadness and betrayal on both sides. Lots of betrayed trusting people. And still it goes on. How sad.

And still the betrayal continues - how sad for all

Oops! I plagiarized and didn't even know it. I've heard lots of John Denver's songs, but never, "I Want to Live." Or perhaps I have at some point in my life and that line was buried in the recesses of my mind. My apologies Mr. Denver.

EE

Hey Echo, You've got a way with words and I admire your poem. The only way I know to write a poem is to make it rhyme. To be honest, I don't know the different kinds of poems or any of the rules of poetry so I don't usually read poems that don't rhyme cause I don't usually understand what I read. You made this poem in a way that even me got the message. I really enjoyed it. Thanks Echo....Later, Marty

You're welcome, Marty. Don't know much about poetry either. Poems just sort of brew inside of me until they gush out at some point. Strong emotions, whether good or bad, usually do the trick.

I love words.. . . . always have. They are magic to me. Wish I were a better writer. Someday perhaps. Unfortunately writing takes practice just like everything else. Too often the “urgent” gives way to the important things of life.

I recently read an article by one of my favorite authors, Philip Yancey, where he was talking about how most people don’t understand how difficult writing can be. He said he often spends hours writing and rewriting and tweaking a single paragraph. I think a lot of people think that someone is “born” to be a writer or just naturally “has a novel inside them.” Not the case. As I used to tell my boys when I taught them creative writing: “You must write every day if you want to become a good writer. It’s just like lifting weights. You have to build those writing muscles.”

I’ve contemplated going to school to enhance whatever small amount of natural talent I might have, but the older I get, the more I’m picky about how I spend my time. (thus my “only one chance” poem) I have so many things burning in my soul that I believe God has put there that I want to accomplish before I “kick the bucket.” (How about that movie, “The Bucket List”?!) At times I’ve thought it was writing, but then I wander through Barnes & Noble or Mardels and think, “What the world doesn’t need is another writer!” I love bookstores. There are so many amazing authors out there. Heaven to me would be spending the first 1,000 years reading all the books I never had time to read down here on earth!

Ok, rambled on long enough. I pray you have a blessed Christmas, Marty.

EE