Final Resting Place

I think I have probably said it before, but old graveyards hold a special fascination for me. Now, I know that's not an unusual thing for someone more than well into the second half of life, but the peculiar thing is that I have had this fascination since long before reaching my 40th birthday. Just the way I am, I expect. Looking at old graves (the older the better), I am always struck by the way we humans see ourselves as having such importance that we attempt to immortalise ourselves in stone and chisel. When you think of it, it doesn't take long before we are largely forgotten and after another while our final resting place is often reduced to this and all our self importance vanishes withiut trace.

Yet each final resting place represents another human being who lived and struggled, suffered heartache and disappointment and knew happiness and joy, just like you and I. Is this as good as it gets?

"For we are strangers before thee,and sojourners, as were all our fathers: our days on the earth are as a shadow, and there is none abiding" 1Chronicles29:15