5 seconds to eternity.

This past weekend, my church, CFC, held its annual mini-olympics. We’re the biggest church on campus with about a thousand people and seeing everyone from all dorms, ages, and ethnicities (primarily Asian or Pacific islander) compete and cheer each other on was awesome to see. We were so animated that I even saw a caucasian girl from the neighboring soccer game take out her camera phone videotape us. The body of Christ was in full force, even with the frigid weather and obnoxious rain. And even though the competitions consisted of crab walks, hula-hooping, and solving 3rd grade math problems, it was still pretty intense. Still, we knew that from start to finish, God was the only true victor.

The intensity of mini-olympics.

But, something happened right after mini-olympics that I can’t stop thinking about. Every time that something pops into my head, I want to smack myself, cry, and travel back in time to the moment before it happened. All I want is one more chance to do things differently.

Right after mini-olympics, since I had absolutely no cash on hand (a coincidence, the competition was free), I went to the gym across from my dorm to get some cash from the ATM by the entrance. I saw a Chinese mother playing with her two girls on one of the couches. I was feeling God’s love from mini-olympics that day and thought to myself, what a beautiful picture of the Body of Christ. I was even tempted to give a little “Ni hao ma?” greeting to the mother.

As I took the receipt from the ATM, my sound-isolating earphones was pumping Hillsong’s new album, Across the Earth: Tear Down the Walls. I smiled at one of the mother’s daughters playing near the automatic sliding doors. Greatest in God’s kingdom, I thought. Then it happened. The daughter placed her hand on the part of the door that the automatic door slides over. As I was trying to leave the gym, I noticed that the automatic door was stuck. Why wasn’t it opening? I looked to my right and saw the little girl with a look of pure agony on her face. I pulled out one earbud, then the other, and was confronted with the full force of the little girl’s screams of pain. Her small hand was caught in the sliding door’s crossfire and I was the only one around. I didn’t know what to do–grab her hand and pull and I’d probably do more damage, push or pull on the door and it might just drag the girl along with it–I froze. I looked around me, crying out in my head, “Please someone, HELP.” Nobody came, the little girl was in extreme pain and I was the only one in a position to help. The longest five seconds of my life passed as my heart quenched, mouth gaped, and nerves disabled.

Finally, the mother came running with her other daughter in one arm and pushed the door back to a close. I followed suit by pulling it towards the same direction from the other side. I stood with the family for a few minutes, seeing if the little daughter was all right. I looked for any sign that she was okay, but all I got was the mother’s turned back. I looked longingly at the mother and daughter in hopes of seeing if there was anything, anything at all I could do to make up for my reprehensible lack of judgement. I slowly walked outside, too ashamed to put the earbuds back in and listen to Hillsong’s new album.

As I relive that moment in my head, I’m faced with the scariest thought of all: did I set off the door’s sensor? Did I cause the door to slide across the girl’s fingers? It was a quiet day in the gym, nobody else was leaving, it had to of been me. Whether I set it off or not, I’m at fault. I’m a grown man–who does nothing when a little girl stands next to you crying out in pain?

For me, this experience contained so much symbolism and so many analogies, but only one, simple, unbreakable truth: I did nothing. When I think about our lives here on earth and the eternity we’ll spend in the afterlife, all we really have are about five seconds on this planet. Five seconds to act or do nothing. Those five seconds will soon pass and God will either embrace you or turn His back–whether you speak his language or not. to Thank God I’m still alive. From now on, the entire rest of my life is a second chance, there’s no need to go back in time.