Memories are more important the more we age,
We can suppose it’s an indicator of the stage,
Where nostalgia merits in putting to hand,
What we attest to God—our life’s stand.
The longer we live, the more we suppose,
The higher the gift, anticipating a close,
Life is limited more than it seemed,
Much more than we ever dared or dreamed.
Memories call us to regard our time,
In capsules and fissures that don’t quite rhyme,
Troubled but driven, resolute we strive,
This riddle of our time cannot be denied.
Significance of the moment, our existence laid bare,
When we think on it we’re caused to solemnly stare,
Finiteness to us may seem awkwardly true,
A fact we feel certain with which shortly to rue.
Finally our end beckons and we sense our chance,
Upon heaven’s glow we’re compelled to dance,
Our lives do not end here collapsed in our sins,
There’s life over yonder—it’s where it begins.
What Do We Think of Our Lives?
Nostalgia has a way of compelling us to think about our past that’s relevant to both our present and future. It strengthens our existence.
Memories call us to recount our being. The further back our memories stretch, the harder it is to remember the detail, and the more mysterious our lives seem. Did we really experience what we experienced? We lament such relative amnesia. We would richly prefer to have instant recall of those memories we’ve come to long since cherish. And even if we didn’t cherish them, we still want access so we can learn, and therefore reconnect with our essential selves and touch important persons. We yearn for inner connection.
And memories speak powerfully into our perceptions of what our lives have been, what they are, and what they’re becoming.
This Life Is Limited – Eternity Is Limitless
The older we get the more we realise how relatively short life is. And in all of this reflection what’s reinforced over and again is how imperfect life is. But this life isn’t all there is.
Our limited lives, and the limitations within life, should simply remind us there is something more, and eternally perfect, waiting for us.
What is awkward and mysterious about life here, with all its anxieties and fumbling and occasioned misery, is being brought back under God in the eternal realm. There is peace. Totally unlike this world; there is peace.
Memories give us a sense of our lives, and they grow more significant the older we get. Memories are a gift, a down payment, for the wonder to behold in eternity.
Death is a touchstone giving meaning to life. It’s the gateway into eternity.
© 2013 S. J. Wickham.