It was 9:30 on a crisp September morning, and I was headed south on the Interstate toward Sam’s Club. My day was neatly planned: errands in the morning, yardwork in the afternoon. The sun was shining, the air was fresh, and I had 3ABN Radio playing in the background. With the windows cracked, the breeze joined my humming, mercifully softening the edges of my off-key voice.
It felt like the beginning of a very good day.
As I traveled at 70 mph, I spotted movement ahead. A young deer, maybe a year or two old, stood just a couple of feet off the shoulder. I immediately eased off the accelerator. Her body language told me she was nervous, fidgeting between decisions: should she dart across the road or retreat back into the trees?
For a moment, I was close enough to see her eyes—wide, hesitant, full of life, but uncertain. She twitched, shifted her weight, then turned as though to return to the woods. Relieved, I drove past, glancing into my rearview mirror to make sure she was heading to safety.
But in the next instant, my relief turned to horror. The deer had changed her mind. She leapt across the asphalt—directly into the path of the car behind me. I watched as that gray vehicle struck her head-on, at full speed.
Time slowed. My heart sank as her body was hurled violently into the air, flipping several times before crashing lifelessly onto the pavement.
Just seconds earlier, I had met her gaze. Seconds earlier, she was alive, pulsing with God’s creative energy. Now she was gone.
The driver pulled over, no doubt checking for damage, while I drove on, wrestling with what I had just witnessed. My mind ran in a hundred directions. I couldn’t shake the image of her beautiful eyes. I turned around at the next exit, needing to know if she had possibly survived. But as I approached, the truth was undeniable—the pavement was stained with blood. She was gone.
That young deer became, for me, a vivid reminder of life’s brevity. One moment she was standing, breathing, deciding. The next, she was lifeless. From life to death in just three seconds.
Isn’t that the way it is for all of us? Scripture tells us, “… What is your life? It is a vapor that appears for a little time and then vanishes away” (James 4:14). We plan our days, our weeks, even our years—but none of us knows when our three seconds will come.
I thought about how many people live their lives hesitating on the edge of a decision—just like that deer. They sense danger, but they stall. They feel the Spirit tugging, but they wait. They take a step toward safety, then reverse course and run straight into destruction.
The saddest part? For many, the delay is fatal.
Jesus told a parable about ten virgins waiting for the bridegroom (Matthew 25:1–13). Five were wise, prepared with oil in their lamps. Five were foolish, waiting until the last moment to act. When the bridegroom arrived, the unprepared were shut out. It wasn’t that they didn’t want to attend the wedding. They just waited too long.
How many of us live like that? We intend to make things right with God—someday. We’ll forgive that person—later. We’ll get serious about prayer and Bible study—eventually. We’ll surrender fully to Jesus—just not right now.
But life doesn’t always give us “later.”
Sometimes we only get three seconds.
That deer’s eyes still haunt me. She had a choice—safety in the trees or danger on the road. For a moment, she turned toward life. But then she chose the wrong path.
Every day, God places choices before us: “… I have set before you life and death, blessing and cursing; therefore choose life, that both you and your descendants may live” (Deuteronomy 30:19).
To choose Christ is to choose life. To delay is to risk everything. The enemy whispers, “There’s still time, just not today.” But in truth, we don’t know how much time we have. Eternity doesn’t hinge on some faraway day—it hinges on the choice you make right now.
The good news is that we don’t have to live in fear of sudden death or tragedy. We can live in readiness, anchored in Christ. Jesus promises, “… The one who comes to Me I will by no means cast out” (John 6:37). When we surrender to Him, we are safe—whether our lives end in three seconds or three decades.
Living ready means walking daily with Him. It means choosing forgiveness over bitterness, love over apathy, obedience over compromise. It means letting Him shape our thoughts, our words, and our actions.
That deer never got another chance. But you and I still have this moment. If you’ve been putting off fully committing to Christ, don’t wait another day. Don’t risk eternity by hesitating on the edge of the road. Say yes to Jesus today. Step into the safety of His arms. Allow Him to be your Savior, your Friend, and your Lord. Life is fragile. Death can come in seconds. But eternal life in Christ is secure, unshakable, and everlasting.
The choice is yours—will you make it now? Join me in this prayer:
Lord Jesus, thank You for offering us the gift of life and the hope of eternity in You. Teach us to number our days and live in readiness, always yielding to Your will. Give us courage to choose Your way of life today and every day, and draw us close to Your heart. We place our lives in Your hands, trusting in Your unfailing love. Amen.
