Ecclesiastes 12:3The MessageIn old age, your body no longer serves you so well. Muscles slacken, grip weakens, joints stiffen. The shades are pulled down on the world. You can’t come and go at will. Things grind to a halt. The hum of the household fades away. You are wakened now by bird-song. Hikes to the mountains are a thing of the past. Even a stroll down the road has its terrors. Your hair turns apple-blossom white, Adorning a fragile and impotent matchstick body. Yes, you’re well on your way to eternal rest, While your friends make plans for your funeral. See the chapter |
God sovereignly brought me to my knees, he cut me down in my prime. “Oh, don’t,” I prayed, “please don’t let me die. You have more years than you know what to do with! You laid earth’s foundations a long time ago, and handcrafted the very heavens; You’ll still be around when they’re long gone, threadbare and discarded like an old suit of clothes. You’ll throw them away like a worn-out coat, but year after year you’re as good as new. Your servants’ children will have a good place to live and their children will be at home with you.”
A Message from God-of-the-Angel-Armies: “Old men and old women will come back to Jerusalem, sit on benches on the streets and spin tales, move around safely with their canes—a good city to grow old in. And boys and girls will fill the public parks, laughing and playing—a good city to grow up in.” * * *