The wind carried a cool light mist and evening was racing across the road and into the woods. Most of the leaves had left their lofty perches, joining the humus collected on the forest floor. Only days before the trees were ablaze with leafy dress, preparing for the parties that accompanied the approaching seasons. The man sat quietly on the stump, reflecting on the progression of time. A few weeks past, the oaks, hickories and sweet gum trees had been lush and verdantly green, teeming with all manner of life.
However, the days were quickly shortening as the sun shifted southerly in the skies. Cooler air was creeping down the creek and the neighborhood often shook from frost forming temperatures. Pulling his collar closer and resetting his cap to relieve his eyes from the sunset, the man pondered his place in the passing parade of time and life.
The accelerating passage of time had gathered with it friends and family; some were cherished, others strangers to most. Yet they all succumbed to the cycle of the seasons and worked their ways through the walkways of eternity.
The man sat there in the back of his garden woods surrounded by the handiwork of his Creator and the meager modifications he had made to that which he had been given stewardship. “All this, too, will pass,” reflected the man, “for Earth is not my home…I am just visiting here; practicing, praying and preparing for Heaven.
“And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am.” JOHN 14: 3
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