Speaking with someone close this morning I heard quite a bit about how many people have died just this year. It seems cancer or other things have taken an unusual toll, and I would not be surprised if people reading this would agree with their own personal examples.
Here is how I responded:
A story is a wonderful thing.
When you are finished reading it, the book does not vanish.
When you have finished the last word, you do not instantly forget the story.
It becomes part of you and all that you do.
If this is true with stories, how much more with human souls? People we have lost live on through our hearts. This is a shadowy reflection of a truth concerning how souls live on in eternity. How could we still feel the pull of the bond of love if there was nothing tied to the other end? Paul was so right in scripture on how there is great hope and comfort in understanding this, but the things I speak of confirm the truth of it.
A seed has short life. That life must die before it sprouts into a tree. From the tree comes more seeds of the one and increases that life exponentially. How much more then will our lives be perfected and increased in Heaven?
Life is beautiful here, but there is more to come!
A seed has short life. That life must die before it sprouts into a tree. From the tree comes more seeds of the one and increases that life exponentially. How much more then will our lives be perfected and increased in Heaven?
Life is beautiful here, but there is more to come!
But I've been thinking about this, as I'm getting older. Take my parents. Both fought in WWII and Korea. Mom was with the MASH 8055 in Pyong Yang when the Chinese came across the border. She told stories with melancholy nostalgia that would give you nightmares. My Dad was in the Navy before Pearl Harbor, and having dug through his steamer trunk, I asked him if he'd gotten two Purple Hearts or if one was for his dress uniform and one for his regulars, and how did he earn it anyway? I remember like it was yesterday, on the eastern steps to the Oak Knoll Inn, the only light from the big sign out front, me maybe eight, and my father answering, "You know I did something wrong, I was in the engine compartment.'
ReplyDeleteSo they live on in my memories, maybe more mine than any of my siblings since after my dad's death I would sit for hours with my mom as she talked about him. (He had volunteered for an LST, landing at Tarawa, when a Japanese 5 inch shell had dropped into that engine compartment).
But Taylors are not long live-ers, we don't grow old, we don't fade away, we just drop dead, and when I die, my parents, patriots, heroes, will simply no longer exist in memory or anywhere else in this world that they contributed to.
My only solace is God. Or do I need to qualify that, my belief in God, my parents belief in God, and His Promise to us.
David,
ReplyDeleteI know this is you and you accidentally logged in as your son. Where do I start? Should I mention of passing black plastic on the side of the road, and how the folds caught a bit of sand from the wind, some moisture, then seeds that took root? Should I speak of a nameless Hebrew airline passenger who told me to tell of the good things I see? It's been years since and I have not stopped writing to share. Should I tell of the brother of the president of Poland who was touched by a nameless Italian in California that he never met, when the plane carrying his brother the President tragically crashed killing all aboard?
The point is this. The souls that are touched by a single word share it with others in their words and actions. Whether you know it or not, the influence spreads till the souls affected become more numerous than the stars on this page.
Will your memory fade? The children of children will have more positive actions and words because you were here. Will your parent's memories fade? All of the lives they touched carry their flame in different ways as their flame burns on in your heart. Just to prove that, I will re-post a very special poem on Facebook in their honor tonight.