Here’s another shocker.
Every breath I take is one less breath I’ll have in this frame.
Every second I experience is one less moment I’ll have on this side of eternity.
And every compressed vertebra, lost or random added hair (I didn’t know hair can grow on the outside of your nose), and every single imperfection reminds me that this is all temporary. This earth is not my home. This body is but a shell of the man I will become one day.
So I can worry about the temporary and waste an inordinate amount of time and money on trying to avoid the inevitable, or I can choose to live with eternity in mind.
I choose eternity.
Someone once said to me, “You Christians live with the delusion of a better life and of a better time to come when this is it; this is all there is.”
I smiled and said, “It’s not a delusion, it’s hope. It’s not escapism or about being distracted by the unpleasant realities of this life through fantasy. It’s believing that Jesus meant it when he said, “I go and prepare a place for you,” and it’s a far better place.
You see, I’m not discouraged by my present realities. I’m not frustrated by my current imperfections. The old and rusty face I see in the mirror doesn’t scare me.
Because I know I am loved and that this life is not the end of the story.
I’m due for an upgrade someday.