This cosmic remembrance of our frailty:what we once were, who we really are and will be again, terrifies and humbles me all at once.
As a father pities his children, So the Lord pities those who fear Him. For He knows our frame; He remembers that we are dust.
When all that we have built around us fall, our comfortable lives - where do we go then? I am lost.
Reading this for the first time brought an unfamiliar prickle to my eyes - brings that prickle every time I re-read it. I've been waiting to blog this for a long time now but couldn't find the words: how to do this without preach-y twee sentimentality?
Twee and preach-y be damned. Remember me, I want to say, when I forget - and I always do - remember me.