The Measure of My Days

I hold one end of the measuring tape while my husband walks backward. The metal unwinds until he reaches the spot he wants marked. His thumb stops at the line and he bends the tape toward me to show its number. He marks it down, and I let go of the winding tape while he eases the long line of numbered feet and inches into the little metal container that holds all of them in the palm of his hand.

We’ve been doing a lot of figuring and marking, measuring and configuring. Living in an older home comes with upgrade needs. Regular upkeep includes fixing a leak here, a broken drawer there, and the light that flickers. All of that brings projects which prompt the creep of something else, and always a desire for new.

Some of it is necessary. Some just wishes.

Something I read this morning in Psalm 39 winds through my mind like that curled tape.

“O Lord, make me know my end and what is the measure of my days; let me know how fleeting I am!” (Psalm 39:4 ESV)

The measurement of my days. It’s a measurement unseen but more real even than the black numbered lines rolling back into their case.

The verse isn’t new. It wasn’t stuck there after I turned a certain age. In fact, I can recall hearing it as a child. I remember my dad reading it from His giant-lettered Bible as it sat spread across his lap. I still can hear his voice pontificating over the shortness of life, the shake of his head at the news of another’s passing.

I remember turning to look at him in his faded denim Oshkosh B’gosh overalls. He sat on his stuffed chair throne, and I wondered about his measurements. He’d spent years and years marking time. How could my dad possibly think life was short? . 

And I wondered if anybody anywhere really wanted to know the numbers left on their tape measure.

That same verse my dad read then, I hear differently now.

When David wrote those words, he didn’t understand the length of his life in terms of his suffering. He expressed physical hurt, but also that undefinable, bewildering search of why pain exists when life passes so quickly.

David recognized the brevity of his life in its bigger picture. His lament touches my heart as I hold the tape for my husband and wonder about the measurement of his days and of mine. And some of that same pain David must have felt, twists past the centuries and deep into my heart.

This week has been one of loss. My parents used to say that as you grow older it feels as if everyone around you is dying. I got a taste of that this week. A friend diagnosed with cancer, another whose daughter is dying, a dear older mentor, the young child of an acquaintance, and yet another from a lifetime ago. And the brevity of life feels like a short tremulous breath.

“Make me know my end,” David prayed. “And what is the measure of my days.”

I look downward at the tape as it slides against the wooden floor, until it disappears in its case.

Did he really want to know, I wonder? What if knowing was more painful than not knowing? Did his anguish push him to look for relief from this life or purpose for this life?

The roll of the tape for some is very brief, and for others much longer. This week alone reminded me of that truth. And yet for all, our span is just a tiny sliver in the infinity of before and after. A minute mark within the palm His hand.

“Behold, you have made my days a few handbreadths, and my lifetime is as nothing before you. Surely all mankind stands as a mere breath! Surely a man goes about as a shadow!” (Psalm 39:5-6 ESV)

The breath of today feels but a breeze, a brush of air against where I stand. “And my lifetime is as nothing before you,” David wrote. 

Because of this, we measure our days. We hold them up to an eternal plan, bigger and greater than we can ever imagine. We lay inches and feet still remaining, at His feet. We know that we were created for His purposes and as long as we have life, we belong to His design and will. Who can know His measure of these days or conceive of the expansive eternal value of one life briefly touching another?

“And now, O Lord, for what do I wait? My hope is in you.” (Psalm 39:7 ESV)

David’s measurement should also be one that leads to hope. Life’s seconds tick within a timeline of eternity, and the intersection of our lives with eternal import. We appreciate breath’s miracle, grateful every morning and thankful each night. And we live with surety that the best truly is yet to come. 

David’s question, “What is the measure of my days?” belongs in our lives.

God, ever existing, never ending, inconceivable Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end, created me for a brief visit here. Oh but someday, I will be at home with Him to stay.David’s question, “What is the measure of my days?” belongs in our lives. Share on X

“For I am a sojourner with you, a guest, like all my fathers.” (Psalm 39:12b ESV)

In the palm of His hand He holds the measurement of my days safe forever.

*Feature Photo by Immo Wegmann on Unsplash