Human beings are frail and temporary, like grass, and the glory of man fleeting like blossoms of the field. The grass dries and withers and the flowers fall off,
But you don’t have a clue what tomorrow may bring. For your fleeting life is but a warm breath of air that is visible in the cold only for a moment and then vanishes!
It’s true the wicked flourish, but only for a moment; they foolishly forget their destiny with death, that they will all one day be destroyed forevermore.
One day we will each be swept away into the sleep of death. We glide along through the tides of time— so quickly gone, like a dream that fades at dawn, like glistening grass that springs up one day and is dry and withered the next, ready to be cut down!
We live our lives like those living in shadows. All our activities and energies are spent for things that pass away. We gather, we hoard, we cling to our things, only to leave them all behind for who knows who.
So if God has clothed the meadow with hay, which is here for such a short time and then dried up and burned, won’t he provide for you the clothes you need—you of little faith?