A few months ago, I took a drive to the home I grew up in, located in a town along the midsection of Galveston Bay. It’s the center of my formative memories. The house was a few hundred yards from the bay, and my memories of it, though still sharp, fade a bit with each passing year.
It’s not there anymore. Neither is the chinaberry tree I spent hours in, neither the brick entryway gates, neither the back yard, neither anything else. It’s all gone, except for a slab.
It had already been changing: the new owners had relocated the driveway and modified several other features of the property. But in 2008, Hurricane Ike leveled everything and carried it out to sea.
What does this mean? Frankly, it means nothing if everything is in a state of becoming—if there is no state of being, nothing that gives permanence, nothing that grounds our existence. There are those who purport to believe this.
It means, then, that my formative memories are grounded only in temporality. They are only as real, lasting, and meaningful as the medium that holds them, and the media that holds them—the physical location, the photograph, the diary, my brain—are all fading away. They will all cease to exist. They will all be carried out to sea. Vanity of vanities…all is vanity.
Have I ever done a good deed? Have I ever committed a sin? When this earth is carried out to the dark and cold sea of the universe, they will cease to exist. Meaningless. Ungrounded. Without purpose. No wonder Solomon’s experience became Ecclesiastes.
Worse by far, the father I had in that home is gone as well.
Yet, there is another way. Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows.
My life, my memories, my deeds, both good and ill, my departed loved ones, are not cast out upon the waves; they are grounded in the eternal I AM who does not change like shifting shadows. He is the rock which no wave can move or erode; the firm foundation upon which hope, purpose, and meaning are certain. A medium which cannot fade away, nor can moth, rust, or thief destroy. In fact, He controls the very wind and waves, and the sea itself. What manner of man is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?
One that holds the world in his hands. One that ensures that all is not vanity, and that I have not lived in vain. My strong tower, refuge, and home that cannot be carried to sea.
These are a shadow of the things that were to come; the reality, however, is found in Christ.
Preach it! On Christ the solid rock I stand…
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Wait, you grew up near Galveston? I lived there for two years in the (very) early ’80′s.
You get him talking about the early ’80s at your own risk, Hank. That’s why Randy was worried about what music we’re going to have to listen to this month…
I just realized I drove right past Ian’s office last Sunday. I’ll have to stop in on him sometime.
When you do, tell him I said hi, but don’t ask him to tell you any stories about when I worked for him…
Okay, now you *know* I’m gonna.
Were you in Canada, or was he in the States?
He sojourned here in ‘Big D.” But I do have a Canadian for a sister in law…
Ohhhh…so we can count you as sanctified by your relatives, at least.
Heehee!
Thank you, Ray.
“Wait, you grew up near Galveston? I lived there for two years in the (very) early ’80′s.”
Hey Hank,
Yep. Still there, too, about 20 minutes away. Look me up if you’re back this way…
Well said. I enjoyed your thoughts guest “booger”. It shows how our life here on earth is so fleeting. Nothing stays the same. But in Christ we have that constant. But how come it is when you deal with constant pain that those fleeting moments seem an enterity?
ROFL … hey cats that blue thing by my name looks like a booger!
LOL so true…now who’s the guest booger? Heehee!
meeeee….. cause i have the guest booger icon! ! !
“I enjoyed your thoughts guest “booger”.”
I’m glad you “picked” this boog to read
“But how come it is when you deal with constant pain that those fleeting moments seem an enterity?”
It sure seems that way at the time, no? But there’s a great gettin’ up day that’ll be here before you know it.
Yes there is isn’t there. And I look forward to that day when I don’t have to take painkillers to get thru the day!
See, Cath, I toldja the Texans fit in just a little too well…
Word.
Yeah they do don’t they. Just like Denise fits into our family to well. Freaky. At least not all of them have the accent so heavy you can’t understand them.
Yeah, Marc only has a little bit of an accent when he types. Just a few “y’all” and such here and there.
Hank’s another one of my Texans. The Ian mentioned above is from Canada. It must be the southern friendliness — I keep meeting more Canadians from knowing these guys.
See ya shortly — just getting the Large One clothed and in his right…do we use the word “mind” on a teenager?
no i have told you Cats they don’t have a mind until they become an adult and them sometimes its debaitable
Texans? Ah, that explains some of the things I’ve observed around here…
Can’t miss those opportunities!
Not fair! I’m somewhat distracted with moving responsibilities…
In my defense, those guns are totally aimed at the Texas Longhorn…
Are you two still in transit? The empty bookshelf photo seems awhile ago, but of course these things are a process.
Today’s my last day in the office. By this time next week we will be unpacking in Jackson. We had about six weeks to pack, and that’s coming to a close.
Ah, gotcha. I don’t know if we could move house by this point, we’re so entrenched. I’d have to rent a dumpster, I think.
Heck, I probably should anyway, if I’m feeling that way about it…