Before I Become a Memory

“Whatever you do, do well. For when you go to the grave, there will be no work or planning or knowledge or wisdom.” — Ecclesiastes 9:10 (NLT)

The Gravity of Now

Time doesn’t ask permission. It slips through fingers while we scroll, rush, overthink, and postpone love. Then “soon” turns cruel. It becomes “never.” Arms that once held us, grow cold. Laughter fades. The voice we knew becomes a distant hum in our memory’s back room.

But before that silence settles, there is breath. There is fight. There is holy opportunity to be fully here.

The sacred in-between is heavy. Not polished. Not perfect. Just real. Be present.

This isn’t just physical proximity. It’s spiritual intentionality. It’s asking, Did I love well today? Did I see the people God placed in front of me? Did I listen for Heaven’s whisper while the world screamed for my attention?

Presence is gritty. It’s sweaty. It’s inconvenient. It costs us distractions, self-protection, and refined distance. But it pays in legacy. It pays in peace.

I choose now. I honor the purpose that God has for me in this day, this time, this moment…before I become a memory.

Journal Reflection:

• Who in my life needs my undistracted presence today?

• What might change if I treated each moment as something eternal, not passing?

• What legacy do I want my presence to leave before I become a memory?

• Complete the thought: “Before I become a memory, I choose to…”

Prayer:

Lord, teach me to live awake. Not rushing toward “soon” but cherishing the sacredness of now. Help me leave imprints, not just impressions. Let my presence carry peace, joy, and truth while there is still time to speak, hold, and hear.

Before I become a memory, help me to reflect You fully.

Amen.