the beginning of the end...of the beginning

My body is a daily reminder of my impending death. I feel it every morning as I pull myself from the bed, and even more so as I throw myself back onto the bed at night. I feel it as I walk up a flight of stairs; I feel it as I sit down in a chair. I was meant for death. I was born to die. 

I have rheumatoid arthritis, meaning that my body feels far older than it should. My back, joints, and muscles ache constantly, making extraneous physical exertion a major struggle, though I often hide it. I was meant for death. I was born to die.

But life is not all about death. Life is an adventure. Life is a race. Life is a beautiful journey in which we think and sing and dream and dance... Life is a gift. A marvelous gift. Yet it's a gift not even recognized by some. And though you could continue on and on about the beauty of life, you cannot get past the end. We were meant for death. We were meant to die. 

But what if someone said there was a solution? That it was not death to die, but that in actuality, death meant life? What if you had the chance to take eternal life? Would you take it? Would you hold allegiance to the one who gave his son so that you could have everlasting life? 

This pain in my body helps to remind me of life--and furthermore, and more prominently, the promises of a painless eternity- an eternity of joy before God, rejoicing in his steadfast love, forever grateful for his bountiful grace; forever praising his beautiful face. Yes, I may be dying physically, emotionally, and mentally day by day, but my soul is being refreshed and renewed even more so every hour. 

Lord haste the day when my faith shall be sight!