Lent inventory: jars of clay
This is how I envision Allison and me 30 years from now. A team, we are. A duet.
You know, it took a lot of years before both of us realized that we were a team – harmony, one to the other. When we figured it out, a lot of years were gone. It takes another “lot of years” not to see them as wasted years. But these years are prep for the rest.
I think this is probably the story of every couple. I’d even be arrogant enough to say, if you don’t believe this, you’ve probably not figured it out yet. It is a miracle that any couple lasts long enough to figure it out. I realize that.
So, I figure 30 years down the road, we’ll still be figuring things out. We’ll be more dependent on one another, on things unseen, on faith. We’ll still be jars of clay, becoming more and more fragile.
More brittle, but less bitter.
More dry, but less thirsty.
More cracked, but less broken.
“That is why we never give up. Though our bodies are dying, our spirits are being renewed every day. For our present troubles are small and won’t last very long. Yet they produce for us a glory that vastly outweighs them and will last forever! So we don’t look at the troubles we can see now; instead, we fix our gaze on things that cannot be seen. For the things we see now will soon be gone, but the things we cannot see will last forever.”
<< Home