It's not a competition, it's a doorway.

Things take the time they take. don't worry. How many roads did St. Augustine follow before he became St. Augustine?

Don't we all die someday and someday comes all too soon? What will you do with your own wild, glorious chance at this thing we call life.

Isn’t it wonderful the way the world holds both the deeply serious, and the unexpectedly mirthful?

Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?

When death comes…. I want to step through the door full of curiosity, wondering: what it’s going to be like, that cottage of darkness? And therefore I look upon everything as a brotherhood and a sisterhood, and I look upon time as no more than an idea, and I consider eternity as another possibility, and I think of each life as a flower, as common as a field daisy, and as singular, and each name a comfortable music in the mouth, tending, as all music does, toward silence, and each body as a lion of courage, and something precious to the earth. [from the poem "When Death Comes"]

What can we do about God, who makes and then breaks every god-forsaken, beautiful day?