I think of my skeleton

Mar 16, 2011Find joy today, Write!

And it freaks me out. Whenever I see a skull or bones, I realize that someday I’ll be only that. A skeleton.

It’s odd how much I think about this. Maybe it’s the result of reading too many (or not enough?) Randy Alcorn books about heaven and eternity. I think about death, about what legacy I’ll leave behind, about what my possible heavenly reward might be. I wonder how much hay and wood and stubble will burn up. I wonder how many of my works will last.

I am more than bones.

I am soul and mind and heart.

And what I do on this earth counts. Matters. An essence of good works here outlasts me to the sweet hereafter.

Yet still, I press my fingers to my wrist and think about the skeleton inside. I wonder how long my heart will pump, how long I’ll taste earth’s air, how long my hands will fly on the keyboard.

Q4u:

Do you ever think about these things? Are you reminded of mortality?

 

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