I had two older uncles. One of them loved to travel. In fact, in his lifetime, he visited every continent on Planet Earth - and yes, that included Antarctica!

The other uncle didn't do much traveling outside of this Nation. I'm not sure, but he might not have ever left the Continental United States. But that didn't mean he didn't enjoy traveling. He lived his whole life in eastern Tennessee, mostly in Knoxville. In his younger years, he loved exploring the lands of The Great Smoky Mountains National Park. Of course, he tried to avoid the "crowded, touristy places" like Cades Cove and Laurel Falls and Clingman's Dome. His preferred method of exploring the Park was what he called "brush-busting" - park the car somewhere and head off into the mountains and see what was there.

But this pretty much ended when he reached his 80's - not because he no longer had the energy, but because he finally discovered golf! Pretty much every sunny day from that point forward was spent with a bag of clubs slung over his shoulder, WALKING a hilly course near his home.

Eventually, my other uncle told him that he ought to be spending his retirement years like he had been doing - traveling the world and seeing all the great sights. To this, his classic response was, "Why should I travel around the world? There are places in East Tennessee that I haven't seen yet."

Tomorrow, I will be traveling to a place in Louisiana that I haven't seen yet. But there is no excitement in this prospect. It was only a few weeks ago that I was talking to a friend about his new life in this place. He had a new job that he enjoyed, he was looking forward to being near his dad, and all was well in his world.

Last week, he dropped dead.

My head is pounding. How could this happen? He was younger than me. It doesn't make sense. It isn't fair.

The words from an old song by Paul Simon keep running through my head:

God only knows

God makes His plans

The information's unavailable to the mortal man.

We're working our jobs

Collect our pay

Believe we're gliding down the highway

When in fact we're slip slidin' away.

But just now, I heard a song from one of my son's favorite movies, "Charlotte's Web". It's words are also echoing in my mind.

How very special are we

For just a moment to be

Part of life's eternal rhyme.

Are we slip slidin' away? Or is it that we should consider ourselves to be very special to live here for just "a moment"? Maybe it's both.

James, the brother of Jesus, put it this way. "What is your life? It is a mist that appears for a little while. Then it disappears." James 4:14.

I know this; I believe this; I accept this. But knowing, believing and accepting doesn't make my journey tomorrow any easier. I'm going to a place that I've never seen before. But I am not happy about it.

Ambrose Ramsey | Shepherd