It is mid-autumn as I write, and another year is dying before our eyes. The greenery of June has faded and changed into the colors of decay. At the merest breath the leaves loosen and fall to the ground like rustling rain. The wind gathers them in circles on the lawn, or scatters them in the clouds, or drive them along the open road. Helpless and worthless-the remains of the glory of summer soon to be buried out of sight-the withered leaves affect one with sadness and sympathy. They are a parable of human life, which also has its fleeting seasons and its final disappearance. First comes the spring-time, when the buds burst on the the branches, and life is a boundless possibility; then follows summer, when life rises to its fulness and strength; by-and-by autumn checks the flow of sap, and begins to detach us from life; and, last of all, winter, with a timely kindness, covers our lives and our faults beneath the cold pure snow. For a day our neighbours speak of us; for a short while man who served with us in the great enterprise of life miss our presence; for a longer time our friends will recall us; and all her life, till the faithful heart grows cold in death, a woman will keep our memory green. Then the last who knew us will also be covered by the snow, and our remembrance will cease the earth.
While we was in Grand Rapids, we visited a store called "Bakers". It is a wonderful christian book store that I could easily get lost in and not mind one bit,there are books apon books, the best part is the used sections. As I was checking out all the authors, I came across a book Called "The Life of the Master", by John Watson. The book is 100 years old and still in pretty good shape. I paid $8.50 for it, Thank You Lord!
What I posted above is from the book and I wanted to share with you all. As I read it, I thought to myself that I guess I am in the Autumn, of my life. I have fewer days ahead of me, then I do behind me and realizing this, I have fewer days ahead of me to share Christ Crucified, fewer days to be that example that Christ wants me to be, fewer days ahead before I meet my Maker, my Lord, My Master. When it is time for the winter to come, I want to be the child of God that the Lord will say Well done my fine servant, well done. I would like to have folks that knew me, know that I knew Christ and know that I loved Him with all my heart.
Thank you Lord for taking this wretched soul and making me your child. May I honor you for the Season, I have left in my life.
Cristina
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10 comments:
Cristina,
Good thoughts. Here it is August and April seems like is was just yesterday.
Hi Jazz,
So true, as the days go by they seem to go by so much quicker then they use to. All my children have grown up and I look back and think, were did the time go?
Cristina
Hey there! It was so good to read the comment you left at my place. I
Your post here is very though provoking! We need to "redeem the time" as we are growing into later seasons of life.
Hope you are well!
Cristina, perhaps some time next week could you please post this at bluecollar?
Mark
That was so beautiful, Cristina! I am so jealous that you have that book, but glad you do!:o) I love that kind of writing...it helps us to understand exactly what you said so beautifully about yourself. I too can't wait to hear from my Father, "Well, done!" And I know I will since it is Christ's works that are imputed to me! What grace abounds to us! Was your vacation just wonderful?...email me! :o)
;o]
Redeeming the time for the days are evil.
Great post!! Too many Christians get older and head into the final season of their life and sit down on God. There is still much work to be done and many souls to be rescued from everlasting doom. No matter how hard it is in that final season of our lives we must keep going and not let ourselves sit down on God.
Beautiful, beautiful post. Brought tears to my eyes. Especially, since it so speaks of where I am now. May the Lord find me as one "still bearing fruit in old age" (Psalm 92). That sounds like my kind of book.
Thank you for your comments.
Cristina
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