dust...to dust

 

 

I used to go to weddings
(by R.P.Edwards)

I used to go to weddings
Beginnings….every one
A milestone for children
The daydream …of the young
But now I go to funerals
And weddings?
Far and few
And dreams are filled
With dreaming
Of forever’s
Ever…new

Her name was (is) Melanie.  She was (is) a relative by Christ, and she went to be with Him years too early (in my opinion).  In her early forties when making the jump, she had been sorely afflicted with diabetes for quite some time which resulted in blindness, kidney failure, leading to coma…then death.  She left on this side a husband, David, and a teenage daughter, Jessica.

I’ve been on the midnight shift.  A bit out of it (more than usual) and, although there are topics of interest floating around, I think I’ll just pause a moment before the urn (she was cremated) and reflect.

As I look at the simple display (the grieving husband to my right) I must acknowledge the truthfulness of the scripture that reminds us; life (in this flesh) is but a vapor.  We‘re here…then we’re gone.  We’re singing…then silent.  Dancing…then done.  And, left to mourn us…many (for a very brief span). And a few (for a lifetime).  And, as we gaze at the “pictures” of the deceased, the ills of the country recede.  Power, politics, pollution, platforms, enemies, economics, …they all fall before the reaper. 

And so, with an embrace, and a few words of comfort, there is a needful reminder that our common Christian anchor  is fastened to firmer stuff than is found…here.  Our “home,” our “real” home, has an address not found on any GPS.  And our family dwelling, with Jesus holding the door, knows no tears "or" separation.

Goodbye Melanie.  It will be only a moment…and we‘ll see you again.

****

One hundred years from now

 

 

In Perspective
(by R.P.Edwards)

A vapor
A wisp
A moment…then gone
Troubles
And triumphs
Weeping
And song
All of life’s doings
And dying
And dance
All for the moment
All…for the chance
Yes
All that we live for
And strive for
And fear
All of our trappings
That add to us…here
All that we go through
The pleasure
The pain
The constant bombardment
Perpetual drain
Yes
All that we are
And all that we’ve been
Will all seem…as nothing
When we hear… “Come in.”

“It won’t matter…one hundred years from now.”  An offhand remark I sometimes say after a minor session of grousing about this or that.  It’s a step back, a reality check, a putting in perspective.  In other words; of all the many “important” little details that consume us, the most important detail--where we spend eternity--trumps…all.  And, for the Christian, there is solace in the knowledge that arms of love await us at the end of this, sometimes rugged, tragic, tear-filled, road.  Something to consider.  For, "one hundred years from now" ...is surely coming.

That’s what I think.  How about you?  Click comments below…and say.