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The Shape of Shadow // Thoughts on Imperishable Glory

The Bible tells me that my life --this world, our experience here on Earth, living here for the short moment in history that we do-- is a passing shadow. Trying to hold onto my life is like trying to catch hold of a breath, a thin and vaporous mist that appears briefly and then vanishes through the fingers.

I know this is true because I've tried to hold it and it wouldn't stay. The only option was to cast the complete fullness of myself into the passing days, but I'm always swept along no matter what I do.

It makes me feel crazy and a little depressed, but then there's this:  If our days are a passing shadow, then whats the real thing casting it's shape over time? I am a fleeting vapor, but I lift my eyes to the hills. I long to be solid and imperishable. Why?

It contradicts.

The wild flowers that are here today and gone tomorrow, do they know something of the seasons and the turning of the earth beneath them? Do the silent shadows on a forest floor, or the beams o…

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