Home Sweet Home
"Their graves are their homes forever, their dwelling places to all generations, though they called lands by their own names." —Psalm 49:11
A few years ago Carolyn and I bought two lots at Dry Creek Cemetery, a wind-swept hill overlooking the city of Boise, one for me and one for her. Mine is about 4’ wide and 8' long—32 square feet in all. Not much to show for a lifetime of effort.
This present world is tangible but transient; the unseen world is forever and ever. It's toward that invisible, eternal realm that our predominant thoughts, time and energy must go. That's what it means to "lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal." Everything else is a wasting asset, an investment that inexorably and irreversibly declines in value over time.
I'm reminded here of a story I heard years ago about a stock broker that encountered a genie who granted the obligatory wish. "A copy of the Wall Street Journal one year hence," the man replied. Thereupon, newspaper in hand, he turned to the market report for that day anticipating a killing. But his eye fell first on his picture on the opposite page accompanied by his obituary. The killing he anticipated was his own.