Lord, teach us to number our days aright



Just got word that may favorite science teacher in high school has passed away. Days ago, my friends were planning on visiting her in the hospital. Death comes as a surprise—we were too late.

Ma'am Nona has been my third year class adviser (III Mercury), my chemistry teacher, and my trusted coach during inter-school competitions. We'd spend hours poring over books, sample exams, and tricks in solving problems quickly.

She is the reason why I fell in love with chemistry, and, until now, whenever I'd calculate molarity, I'd often remember that bloody quiz we had one afternoon in 2003.

When I got high grades in Chem 16, I texted her, "I couldn't have done it without you, Ma'am." When I'd drop by K-N to visit the school, I'd come to her room where she'd break the latest news, ask me how I am, and feed me.

But life is a vapor. The people we love—those we hold dearly—can vanish at the flick of a finger.

Nothing humbles man like death does. As I write this, suddenly all my cares in the world vanish—my grades, prospects after graduation, the dSLR I want to have. Life is too short to be wasted.

As I pray for Ma'am Nona's family, I also pray for myself: that God may put some sense in me to pursue only the things with eternal signifance and to regard my every day as a blessing I do not deserve.

"Teach us to number our days aright, that we may gain a heart of wisdom." Psalm 90:12

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