“How few among our race have given this thought it’s weight. That in a slender moment hangs our everlasting state.”
Engraved on a tombstone, where a husband and wife has been sleeping since 1929. Tell me, how can it not shake me. The grilled square fence, white brick that has turned yellow, earth that has not been moved for almost a century. How it has survived the sun, rain and harsh winds. How, out of all the tombstones I stopped in front of this and noticed the reader. How can I not notice the supreme power of God, who gives and take away has kept the fool that I am here, walking beside him, watching me stray away, gently steering me back in the right direction – never domineering, patient and kind. Displeased as I play with fire, applying first-aid as I burn myself. Protecting me, holding me up when I fall, stroking my hair as I cry to sleep at night.
Do I not see?
I saw today at a tombstone. The wonderful gift that I have chosen to believe in.
he said “then stand again friend. I will hold your hand.”
He said “hold his hand but I will carry you until you’re ready to stand.”
