Hear the parable of two...
Illustration
Hear the parable of two persons who saw the vanity of all existence.
The first worked hard for many years building his career and buying his home. At length, he became tired and disillusioned. "What has it all been for?" he said. "I have spent my very self and in a short time all that I have cherished will be gone." As he looked ahead, he could see only a dull emptiness. Even the present was tinged no more with the colors of joy.
The second also worked hard for many years and, as she grew older, she too realized all that she cherished would change. The landscape of life so familiar to her, and so loved, would one day be no more. This depressed her as it had the first person --as it does any who face this sharp segment of reality. But the woman did not let her thoughts rest here. She sought to pierce the darkness, asking persistently a single question. "Who gave these fleeting bits of joy?" In her probing she began to touch the Living Source. For her, life's vanity was not Dead End. It was simply a door. In accepting it, and in passing through it, she found herself more than ever immersed in the One who beckons from eternity and can fill even the now of our days with a richness that will not drift away.
The first worked hard for many years building his career and buying his home. At length, he became tired and disillusioned. "What has it all been for?" he said. "I have spent my very self and in a short time all that I have cherished will be gone." As he looked ahead, he could see only a dull emptiness. Even the present was tinged no more with the colors of joy.
The second also worked hard for many years and, as she grew older, she too realized all that she cherished would change. The landscape of life so familiar to her, and so loved, would one day be no more. This depressed her as it had the first person --as it does any who face this sharp segment of reality. But the woman did not let her thoughts rest here. She sought to pierce the darkness, asking persistently a single question. "Who gave these fleeting bits of joy?" In her probing she began to touch the Living Source. For her, life's vanity was not Dead End. It was simply a door. In accepting it, and in passing through it, she found herself more than ever immersed in the One who beckons from eternity and can fill even the now of our days with a richness that will not drift away.
