I run along the Waterway in The Woodlands, Texas every other day to stay in shape and clear my mind but one run in particular would change me. It would shake me to my core and alter my outlook on nearly everything in my life.

Running usually lulls me into deep thinking and meditation. No headphones or earbuds for me. If I’m not absorbing the natural beauty of the Waterway, I’ll replay some scene from my past, recall a scripture that I had read recently or express praise and appreciation to my Father and Savior. I want the full outdoor experience and the freedom to let my mind wander.

A subtle suggestion from above came first. Stop running, stop talking and listen. I had every intention of doing that after completing the 6 miles and celebrating the record pace. Once I finished the run, I’d find a quiet place to sit, cool down, open my ears and give Him my full attention. The suggestion grew more intense. It became a stronger nudge with more specific instructions to stop immediately and focus my attention on Him. I started looking for a bench or someplace to sit. The nudge escalated to a firm and direct order that wasn’t about to allow for any more delays.

Stop! Now!

I had received many suggestions and firm nudges over the past few years and was getting better at recognizing and reacting to them. I have even learned to listen actively for convictions from the Holy Spirit if I’m moving in a direction I’m not sure of. Direct orders come much less frequently and are not to be dismissed. You better stop and listen.

What was the message? What was so important? Why did I have to stop and listen exactly at this moment?

The closest bench called from the front of a Japanese restaurant in Waterway Square. The bench didn’t budge even under the full weight of a tired runner. I sat leaning forward with my arms on my thighs catching my breath. I closed my eyes and tried to block out the sound of heavy breathing, delivery trucks and honking horns. This time of the morning, pedestrians and customers were far outnumbered by delivery crews and workers getting their shops ready for the day. They didn’t even notice the guy sitting on the bench with his head bowed and eyes closed.

After a few minutes, the words came. They were soft but firm and resonated from the very back of my mind. They cut right through the noisy traffic of this commercial section of the Waterway.

“I’m calling you home soon.”

Simple, brief and to the point. It was not an emotional statement. It was a factual directive meant to be taken at face value. There was no doubt of the meaning of the message, the authority of the message or the source of the message. God told me my days were numbered.

And, there I sat stunned and numbed with the challenge of getting my arms around it. That was intended to be part of the process. Here’s the message, now deal with it. Figure it out. Search for the meaning and seek out the proper response. Fortunately, God left me with a good measure of peace and the feeling that I wasn’t on my own. He would be right there with me as I sorted things out.

How do you sort out the end of your days? How do you process that? I had many more questions than answers.

Why was He calling me home? Why was He telling me ahead of time? How was my life going to end? What would come of my home, wife and family? What about all the unfinished business, projects not completed and obligations not yet met? The quiet space had become a torrent of questions spinning rapidly in and out of my mind. Some doubt crept in. Did I really hear what I thought I heard? Did I have the message right? Did I interpret it properly? Was I taking it too seriously? No chance. It was clear, it was complete and the message was final.

I struggled under the crushing weight of the revelation. No other thought, notion or idea could penetrate this new all-consuming reality. The questions began to sort themselves giving way to those with the highest priority. What does “soon” mean? That question topped them all. Peter told us that a day is like a thousand years to the Lord. That’s a big spread for a mere mortal trying to decipher how much time he had left. What exactly is the definition of “soon?”

I struggled mightily with the idea of being a short timer but I took some solace in the fact that I was being called “home” and not someplace else. Home had to be Heaven, right? The gift of salvation I accepted from Jesus Christ my savior ensured that I would walk through the pearly gates and spend eternity in the place He prepared for me. That fact alone gave me some deep comfort. I never questioned my salvation or the promise of eternal life but hearing it directly from God rendered complete assurance. I needed that.

Clinging to that comfort, I allowed the more practical and distressing questions to swim to the surface. How would I meet my demise? Traffic accident? Fatal illness? Would I be struck by lightning? None of those questions would be answered but stayed right at the top of my consciousness. Frozen in my spot on the bench, I had no desire to move for fear I’d suffer a fatal fall or get hit by a car crossing the street. I couldn’t sit there forever, though, and I knew I had to get going and make my way home. Maybe the term “soon” meant more than just a few minutes.

I looked both ways, twice, before gathering the courage to cross the street. I took extra care not to trip on anything and tumble into the Waterway. I made sure I didn’t gulp the water too quickly at the drinking fountain. All the normal movements I took for granted were now suspect as each could result in some kind of tragedy. I was no longer at home in familiar and safe surroundings. I was a visitor tip-toeing around a series of potential disasters that only I could see.

Minutes turned into hours raising the possibility that I might have a few days left. Maybe even a month or two. I could only hope. Could I hope for enough time to tie up some loose ends? Do I dare approach the almighty God and seek some clarification? Maybe discuss the terms of His revelation? He allowed me to ask for some time to work out some of the important but unresolved issues. He knew what was on my mind and agreed to allow enough time to finalize my mother’s estate, get my affairs in order and get my wife settled in a new home. I had gone to the Father with a request and was given more of His grace. Best estimates would predict about 90 days to complete those three tasks.

After spending so much time thinking I could pass away at any moment, a couple of month’s breathing room offered some relief. And that begs the question. What to do with the short time remaining? If you were certain you had but three months to live, what would you do with those three months? How would you spend your time?

For me it started with a struggle. Every time I experienced something, I was haunted by the thought that it may very well be the last one of its kind. And, I wrestled with the question of how the end would come. I just couldn’t shake that notion or even suppress it. It nagged and persisted always looming somewhere in my imagination.

Six months later, I got my answer. I was diagnosed with Myelodysplastic Syndrome. MDS. Bone marrow cancer. A rare form of cancer with no cure. With intense treatments and a little luck, doctors gave me a prognosis of Three To Five years. Now, I need to make sense of an entirely different reality.