Life is but a vapor . . .

Although the title of this post brings a funny story to mind about my gram and my good friend Amy, I am writing this under sad circumstances.
I found out this morning that a man Joe and I went to college with died suddenly of a heart attack yesterday morning. He was a young man, and he left behind a wife and two young sons. He was a pastor.
My heart is aching for his family.
My heart is aching for his church.
We weren't great friends. In fact, I probably had about a dozen conversations with him that went beyond a nod and a "hello" during the time I knew him. But for a time, all our lives mingled on a Hudson Valley hillside campus. And news of his death has made me sad . . . and thoughtful.
Life is short enough as it is. But when a young person dies (or, at least, one close to your own age) it sends a rattle down your mortal spine (or, at least, it does mine).
I believe in eternal life.
And  I know that death for those who know and love Jesus has ultimately lost it's sting.
But for those of us who remain mortal while our loved ones move on to that next place, death can still smart.
And it makes you think . . . (or, at least, it does me) have I been petty? ungrateful? withholding? selfish? unkind? unforgiving? to the people around me? The people I love?
Are all my relationships right? 
Am I appreciating the moments of my life? Making  the most of them?
Am I confident in my relationship with Jesus and am I ready to meet him?
What if today is my last day?
My heart aches for the Glancy family, but I know that God is sovereign, and that his wisdom is perfect.
I pray for the wife today, that God would give her strength and comfort beyond understanding. And I pray for the children left behind, that God would be their father and they would grow up strong and sure of who He is.
I will tell that story about gram and Amy . . . some other time.