Firsts

A Word About Firsts,...

Life in all its complexities and nuances is crowded with occasions we call 'first times.' 

My life began, almost certainly, with a crying episode. (Although I don’t recall it, I must have been absolutely squalling,)
The first time I ever took a breath.
The first time I ever got smacked on my behind,
As some doctor I’d never met before,
Held me up to a world I’d never been to before,
And said, “Welcome to humanity.”

I’d never been welcomed to humanity before. And I’d never cried, before, either.
Very first time for both things.

A friend gave us some persimmons the other day. I love persimmons, now.
But the first time I ever tasted one?
I remember it well.
My cousin, Billy Chilton, who lived in the country,
Thought it would be hilarious to watch a kid from the city,
Take his very first bite of a green persimmon.
I know it was hilarious for my cousin. But for me? Not so much.

I remember the first time I ever tasted coffee, too.
And I wondered who in their right mind could ever like something that bitter?
But I drink coffee, first thing every morning, now,
Because my life is still filled with first things.

I remember the first girl I liked in the second grade.
And the first job I ever got paid for.
(My mom gave me jobs, like taking out the garbage, 
But she never thought taking out the garbage should warrant any paycheck, 
So I can’t remember the first time I had to take out the garbage. But it was a lot!)

I remember the preaching of the first sermon I ever delivered.
(I don’t remember the sermon; just the preaching, which was pretty sad.
I tried my best not to make the people who were listening too sad,
But I could tell by the expressions on their faces: they were pained, as they sat listening to the first sermon I ever tried to preach)

The first time I kissed my wife.
The first time I looked through a hospital nursery window at my first-born son.
The first fish I ever caught. (A bluegill in a farm pond. My dad put the worm on my hook.)

Lot's of firsts I can't remember, of course.
First time I ate ice cream?
First time I tasted a lemon?

I don’t remember the first words I ever spoke, even though I was there.
And for a certainty, I won’t remember the last words I will speak, either, even though I'll be there.

Just as certainly as there was a first word … there will be a last.

My life has included an incredibly long list of first time things.
But, today, I was also somewhat struck with an equally challenging idea:
My life also includes a number of last time things. Funny thing about last times—they happen quietly, without fanfare, and we don’t realize they've occurred until they’re long gone.

There's a good chance I won’t know it when I’m doing something important for the last time. I need to pay more attention when I tell people 'Good-bye,' this week, I think, just in case … well, you know.

“Be very careful, then, how you live—not as unwise but as wise, making the most of every opportunity, because the days are evil.” — Ephesians 5:15-16 (NIV)

Transcript

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I'm Ken Jones, and this is a classic state of mind with a word about firsts. Life in all its complexities and nuances is crowded with occasions that we call first times. My life began almost certainly with a crying episode. Although I don't recall it, I must have been absolutely squalling first time I ever took a breath. The first time I ever got smacked on my behind, some doctor I'd never met before held me up to a world I'd never been to before and said, Welcome to humanity. I'd never been welcomed to humanity before, and I'd never cried before either. Very first time for both things. A friend gave me some persimmons the other day. I love persimmons now, but the first time I ever tasted one, I remember it well. My cousin Billy Chilton, who lived in the country, thought it would be hilarious to watch a kid from the city take his very first bite of a wild green persimmon. I know it was hilarious for my cousin, but for me, not so much. I remember the first time I ever tasted coffee, too, and I wondered who in their right mind could ever like something that bitter. But I drink coffee first thing every morning now, because my life is still filled with first things. I remember the first girl I liked in the second grade, and the first job I ever got paid for. My mom gave me jobs like taking out the garbage, but she never thought taking out the garbage should warrant any paycheck. So I can't remember the first time I had to take out the garbage, but it was a lot. I remember the preaching of the first sermon I ever delivered. I don't remember the sermon, just the preaching, which was pretty sad. I tried my best not to make the people who were listening too sad, but I could tell by the expressions on their faces they were pained as they sat listening to the first sermon I ever tried to preach. The first time I kissed my wife, the first time I looked through a hospital nursery window at my firstborn son. The first fish I ever caught. It was a bluegill in a farm pond. My dad put the worm on my hook. Lots of firsts I can't remember, of course. First time I ate ice cream, first time I tasted a lemon. I don't remember the first words I ever spoke, even though I was there. And for a certainty, I won't remember the last words I will ever speak either, even though I'll be there. Just as certainly as there was a first word for me, there will be a last. My life has included an incredibly long list of first-time things. But today I was also somewhat struck with an equally challenging idea. My life also includes a number of last time things. Funny about last times, they happen quietly, without fanfare. We don't even realize they've occurred until well, until they're gone. There's a good chance I won't know it when I'm doing something important for the last time. So I need to pay more attention when I tell people goodbye this week. I think just in case, just in case, well, you know. Be very careful then, says the book, how you live, not as unwise, but as wise, making the most of every opportunity, because the days are evil. That's Ephesians 5 15. I'm Ken Jones. This has been a classic state of mind.