Lucas' life that has taught me about the incredible frailty of our existence. Right from his first breath he has been teetering on the bridge between life and death, existing in a whirlwind of watchful eyes and medical equipment.

By his fifteenth month, I had been called on twice to revive Lucas, performing rescue breathing while 9-1-1 was called. Both times resulted in emergency helicopter rides, and both times I was reminded of the great importance of counting his days, giving thanks for every moment. Soon after these experiences I promised myself to do everything in my power to make his life count regardless of its certain brevity.

As a result of these episodes, doctors determined his condition to be seizure related. They modified his medications and prescribed food supplements for weight gain. Lucas rallied quickly and became quite healthy despite his odd exterior. His large head, way out of proportion to his frail body, even prompted one of our son's friends to refer to Lucas as “E.T.” Though the comment was hurtful, it was an accurate description of his appearance.

By the time he reached fifteen months, he was averaging a life-flight every five months. Though this is not a desirable statistic, it was the only thing he had on his brothers, who thought riding in a helicopter would be very cool.

The third helicopter emergency was different in one aspect. After Lucas was stabilized in the intensive care unit and connected to all the proper equipment, the doctors presented us with a question we had not been asked before: “If Lucas stops breathing or begins deteriorating in condition, do you want us to implement life-saving measures, or would you rather we just make him comfortable?” We were taken aback by the reality of his words, but the answer came quickly for both of us. “Revive him.”

Lucas' days may not be as many or as normal as we would like, but I am confident that they have been purposeful. His life has inspired me to seek my own purpose with passion and to motivate others to do the same. Lucas has taught me the importance of living my “dash” to its fullest. Let me explain what I mean by “dash”…

When I was a high school principal in Sheldon, we lived in a home near the local cemetery. Frequently, after a long day at school, I would go on a walk. It helped me process the day's events and prepare for upcoming meetings and activities. These walks inevitably took me through the beautifully quiet cemetery pathways, where the stars seemed brighter and the colors more vivid.

One day, after hearing a message by famed football coach Lou Holtz, I was inspired to view the tombstones of that cemetery in an entirely new way. They were all very similar, with one symbolic difference—the dash. Each grave marker had the same statistical elements, but the dash placed between the date of birth and the date of death represented each person's contribution to life. I began to view the dash as a symbol of the impact each person had in his or her abundance or lack of time on earth.

Are you determined to make your dash count? Maybe you are thinking, What could I possibly contribute? I'm not a gifted poet like Shakespeare, a humanitarian like Mother Teresa, or a genius like Einstein. I just get up each day, take care of business, and try to stay out of trouble. True. Maybe some lives are less public and profound than others, but no life is without significance.

Ephesians 2:10 says, “For we are God's workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.” God has a purpose for every human life. He has planned for you to do things no one else can do.

The significance doesn't lie in the grandiosity of our contribution, but in the heart of it. If you are called to be at home with our children, you must do it with passion. If you are called to start your own business, you must do it with passion. If you are called to teach, you must do it with passion. Whatever you are called to do, you must do it with passion! There will always be someone who is more talented or better prepared, but Psalms 139:13-14 reminds us: “For you [God] created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made.” He designed each of us perfectly, with all we need to accomplish that which He has planned for us.

Some may look at Lucas and wonder what purpose he could possibly fulfill, but he too is fearfully and wonderfully made with everything he needs to complete his calling. He cannot walk, or read, or speak. He will never be a doctor, or a lawyer, or a father. He requires full-time care to meet his physical needs. Yet he has a unique and significant purpose that only he can fulfill. His “dash” will make an impact.

Contemplating death may be necessary at times, but it is far better to contemplate life! Dream big and search for your significance relentlessly. You didn't choose the day you were born, you cannot know how many days you have before you will die, but you can determine how you will live today.

Adapted from Light from Lucas by Bob Vander Plaats. Copyright © 2007, Bob Vander Plaats. All rights reserved. International copyright secured.

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