Sunday, December 26, 2010


The ephemeral nature of life - what a sobering topic on the last Sunday of 2010. 

If you're wondering what the word "ephemeral" means, it's o.k..... most people don't. And most people don't live their lives in the light of what it means, either.

"Ephemeral" means transient, fleeting, temporary. Life is transient, fleeting, temporary.

This morning at church, my pastor talked about the ephemerality of life. He used a few pictures to illustrate the definition and to mirror the fragility of our lives; a dandelion seeding, a rock eroded by time and nature, a candle that had just been snuffed out - smoke still winding into the air from the wick, an hourglass.

Again, when you allow this truth to permeate into your heart and mind, it's very sobering.
Life is transient, preparing us for eternity - with or without Christ.
Life is fleeting - we can hide it, but we cannot reverse the aging process. Each minute that passes is one that we can never reclaim. It's gone.
Life is temporary - you may be blessed with many years or you might be in a car accident and die tomorrow afternoon.

We all know that life is fragile and we mourn that when the life of someone we love is "cut short" or comes to an end, but do we really allow that to influence the choices we make every day? Life eventually goes on and we live to our own gratification until another tragedy demands us to acknowledge that life can change from one moment to the next.

None of us are guaranteed tomorrow and, although we should not live in wait or fear of death, it should motivate us to take advantage of every opportunity that we are given to fulfill the purpose of this life.

We need to stop wasting time and seize the day.


I think the poem and pictures speak for themselves....


I met a traveler from an antique land
Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed;
And on the pedestal these words appear:
“My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!”
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.
                  - by Percy Bysshe Shelley

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