We human beings appear on the stage of life so transiently. We do our
bit-part, and move into the wings, to make way for others. The
Egyptian Sphinx has watched Antony and Cleopatra, Alexander, Napoleon,
Mussolini and Australian World War 2 soldiers all stare up at it. They
are now in the history books, but the sphinx remains...
Actually, the sphinx too will disintegrate. As Francis Bacon said, we
must know that in this theatre of our lives, it is reserved only for
God and angels to be lookers on...
Stephen Leacock once wrote: 'How strange is our little procession
called life! The child says, 'When I am big...' and then, grown up, he
or she says, 'When I am married.' But then the thought turns to 'When I
am able to retire.' Then when retirement comes, we look back over the
landscape traversed. A cold wind blows over it. Somehow we have
missed it all, and it is gone. Life, we learn too late, is in the
living, in the tissue of every day and hour.'
Lord help me to live every day of my life. Amen.
My days are swifter than a weaver's shuttle, and come to their end as
the thread runs out. Job 7:6 (mg.).
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