I huffed and I puffed and I blew out a few candles. I coughed and I wheezed and I motioned for help.
It was only with the aid of my Echo leaf blower that I was able to extinguish the blazing inferno.
As I sit pondering the enormous number of smoldering candles it occurs to me… 80 candles…80%...80% done and 20% to go. Perhaps 20% might be a bit optimistic. Not many folks live to be 100. Maybe 90 would be a bit more realistic. Wow! Do the math. At 80 I’m almost done.
According to a reliable source:
“Our days may come to seventy years, or eighty, if our strength endures; yet the best of them are but trouble and sorrow, for they quickly pass, and we fly away.”
Psalm 90:10
I’m having some concerns about the here-after. Not like the here-after when you go to the kitchen for something and when you get there you wonder what am I here after.
Why is it that the reality of the here-after is seen more clearly thru a plume of candle smoke?
I need to make plans for the future…plans for the here-after…plans for eternity. Precisely where do I want to spend it?
Dear Lord Jesus;
When I look back at my definite lack
Of the attention I have given you
It is sorely clear that I should fear
The reward that I am due.
If it’s not too late at this untimely date
I’d like to change my tune
Could you please spare in your loving care
This selfish arrogant buffoon.
Amen.
