A PASSING BREEZE
“He remembered that they were but flesh, a passing breeze that does not return.” (Psalm 78:39)
“Bless the Lord O my soul, and all that is within me bless His holy name!” If all a man were capable of in life was praising God, with utmost sincerity, it would be enough to accomplish life’s greatest purpose – in fact, he would surely be in unison with the angels above, who never cease giving Him praise.
Resignation to praise and adoration of the most High is supreme!
Call Him holy, call Him Creator, address Him as King; but remember to those who are forgiven, He is Father as well. The Maker of heaven and earth has adopted us as His beloved children – what boundless grace! Love Him, praise Him, obey Him, and seek His face, then know a peace that only comes from God.
To be a child of the King – and know it – brings reassurance to one’s soul. To be fearfully and wonderfully made – and recognize His supremacy – allows a man the gift of surrender. Consider now, the fact that the Everlasting Father has graced us with temporal bodies of clay. When God’s eternal word announces that we are but flesh or that “the excellency of man withers away like a fading flower or a passing breeze,” how should we then live? The brevity of our lives necessitates that we fear the Lord, shun evil, serve Him, love Him, praise Him, and do whatever is right and good in His sight. His commands are not burdensome; and as John the Apostle further states, “This is love for God: to obey His commands.”
How can we not reach for heaven as a baby does his parent’s loving arms? From birth to our passing day, we will always be as children in His sight. Considering the Father’s love and infinite forgiveness, considering that we are, fashioned by His tender hand, should we not give Him all glory, honor, and praise? Life’s greatest purpose and call is praising God; we are His children, and He granted us a span of days. Look up while it is still today, and see His loving arms extended to you. He is ever pleased to draw you close to His heart.
“Your hand shaped me Your hand made me, remember that day You held me like clay?
Your eyes saw me, your hands held me, remember the way you numbered my days.
You summoned an angel to stay by my side, to watch Your beloved all throughout life
The book of my days You started to pen; how will it look when I see You again.” (Michael Farley)