As I walked into work today, I noticed the prettiest, lonesome little lily on a small manicured bush. Many of the leaves on the bush are a yellow/brown and several withered lily corpses still cling to dead stalks. Today, I see one flower and one bud still putting on a show. I appreciate them.
As I look at the lily and know its fate, I ponder on my own. I am not immune. I can see another gray hair and maybe a longer line on my face…
But then I read this:
Never as in never.
With Him, I guess I am not so worried about the process then.