Your life,
in weeks.
“So teach us to number our days,
that we may gain a heart of wisdom.”
Your birthdate stays in your browser. We never send it anywhere.
79 years.
4,108 squares.
That’s the whole picture.
Every box is one week. The dark ones are gone. The gold one is breathing. The cream is what may yet be — if the Lord wills.
These weeks belong to someone.
Let them be yours.
*Estimates use the U.S. average life expectancy of 79 years (CDC). Your days are known by the Lord, not by an average — this is only a mirror to help you steward what you have been given.
Eighteen summers.
That’s all you get.
Add each child’s birthday to see how many summers remain under your roof — and the ordinary days still ahead of you with them.
Add a child’s birthday
to see what is left.
Bedtimes and dinners assume children are home for roughly 85% of nights and 70% of evening meals before age 18. Your family will vary.
“So teach us to number our days,
that we may gain a heart of wisdom.”
Right now you are inside one of those weeks. Begin here. Number this one.
Add your birthday
to number this week.
One sentence. Prayerful. Specific. The kind of thing you’ll be glad of on Sunday.
A weekly note.
One Scripture. One question. One small practice.
A short Sunday email to help you and your family number your days together. Read in a minute. Carry for a week.
“Show me, Lord, my life’s end and the number of my days;
let me know how fleeting my life is.”