My life was over. You rolled it up like a shepherd’s tent. You rolled up my life like a weaver. You cut me off from the loom. You ended my life in one day.
It will never be inhabited again, and no one will live in it for generations. Arabs won’t pitch their tents there. Shepherds won’t let their flocks rest there.
We know that if the life we live here on earth is ever taken down like a tent, we still have a building from God. It is an eternal house in heaven that isn’t made by human hands.
While we are in this tent, we sigh. We feel distressed because we don’t want to take off the tent, but we do want to put on the eternal house. Then ⌞eternal⌟ life will put an end to our mortal existence.