Wayne Weekly “Flying Christmas Trees…Flying Time”

Written by on January 7, 2019

It’s 2019. Honestly, as I grow in years the New Year’s numerals don’t seem to mean as much as they once did. Another new day comes about after 24 hours. Often a bench mark for new goal setting, well intended resolutions, a prayer for family, and a new calendar with fresh pictures to look at.

A few days back I woke in the night to hear a pretty strong wind roaring through. I listened to it for quite some time, occasionally hearing the house creek, and sound of an unknown item caught up in the current and hitting the road or the side of the house. I recalled the sound of a piece of metal hitting pavement, which I later found on a near cross street. A large piece of aluminum flashing I think.

In the morning I took my usual canine walk with my daughter Jill and dog Daizy. As we walked up the street, still being confronted by fairly brisk winds, we saw a few of what once were magnificently decorated Christmas trees, now barren of shiny bulbs, garland, and twinkling lights, displaced by the gusts of wind. They had been swept from their owner’s curb. They were flying Christmas trees.

It’s interesting how the years fly by. Much of the world rings in the New Year with fireworks, dropping balls, lit numerals, party hats, loud music, confetti, and the list goes on. If New Year’s Eve midnight hour was uneventful and quiet, “old man time” would still move forward, clocks would still tick past the hour, and we would awake from a quiet night to a new number in the date column.

God’s Word tells us of the brevity of this life. I once heard that the most important thing chiseled on one’s grave stone…is the dash between the birth and death years. That dash represents our life, and what we did with it. We all hope for dash with value. Some fragments of our dash may have rough areas, but all in all, we desire our dashes to reflect a good and purposeful life.

Flying Christmas trees and flying time, both to vanish. Flying Christians…well that’s another matter.

 

I said, “Oh, that I had wings like a dove! I would fly away and be at rest.        Psalm 55:6

Some bright morning when this life is over, I’ll fly away
To a land on God’s celestial shore, I’ll fly away

 


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