Today my husband will be playing trumpet for the funeral of a young man in our church who was killed last week while para sailing in Florida during a family vacation.
Just two years ago, my husband played trumpet for his wedding.
As we stood in the visitation line last night, I couldn’t help but think this had to be the last place his sweet wife of two years ever expected to be this weekend.
Life is precious and oh so brief—regardless of the years God gives us—which begs the question: How are we using/investing/squandering away our 1440 minutes a day?
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