Fragile

via

As class ended today, my professor paused.

"I wanted to wait until the end of class to tell you all this. 

One of your classmates died."

I wasn't planning on blogging about anything else before I was able to write a debrief on my experience in Bolivia. But I couldn't ignore the need to write about this.

I didn't really know the guy. The most interaction I had with him was probably last Thursday, when a couple of us were joking with each other in the back row. I only found out his name today.

But I know that he had friends and family outside of that classroom that did know him. Right now, they're experiencing the shock and grief of a young life ended too soon. And I'm reminded of when I was in 8th grade and I found out that two of my classmates died in a car accident.

Life is fragile. Time and chance happen to us all. But I know I'm guilty of believing that I'm invincible. It's times like this that remind me that I'm not - life is short.

I may not have known this student, but his presence will be missed in our class, because we're cursed with the knowledge that he will never have the opportunity to join us again. His empty seat will be our reminder.

And it makes me wonder: what's the point of it all? As students, we study hard so that when we graduate we can go off into the world and makes tons of money. We fight to fit in a social life and have a great time with friends, or devote time to our families. We work one or two jobs to pay for as much school as we can so we don't have as much debt to pay back. We manage to fit sleep in there somewhere.

And in there, quite often, we miss out on a lot of joy because we're so stressed out. What are we really living for? Ourselves?

I don't know if this guy knew Jesus. I don't know if there was anyone in his life to share the gospel with him. But it makes me wonder, is what I'm doing on this campus making a difference? When people see me, do they see Jesus? Am I sharing that hope with people? Because there are people who are lost and in need of a Savior. And death doesn't always wait for us to be ready.

I'm still processing the whole situation, so I apologize if this doesn't make sense. But here are a couple questions that I'm asking myself, and maybe you might want to ponder over them too.

What am I living for?

And is it worth dying for?