speeding our lives away

image courtesy of photobucket.com

We travel the same roads often, but with different destinations in mind… I knew the area well, so well that it would be difficult to try to come up with the number of times I drove by that old place. It was a long time ago, but there were years stacked on years that I drove that road multiple times daily.

“Where’s it at?” I asked my wife. “Like 64th and Northern,” she replied, pausing to recall. “I know exactly where that is,” I responded, “I can’t count the number of times I’ve driven passed that place.” My mind raced back rapidly to those days at about the same pace I drove that truck past the old place.

I remember glancing at the grounds as I raced by, I even remember getting held up in traffic by the cars going in and out, but not too often. I didn’t give much thought to dying or death in those days, but then I’d not been to cemeteries too often either. Driving down that road in the industrial section of old Glendale, my destinations were lumber yards and truss plants, but not that day.

I flipped on my turn signal and slowed to turn into the cemetery. I got a closer look at the grounds I’d only been able to glance at while driving at light speed by as a kid. I never considered that I might be pulling into that place so many years in my rear view mirror; a final resting place for soul cages…

My heart and prayers were with our friends who were there to rest their dad’s remains. As I pulled into park I could see through the thick trees the place I’d worked as a young man. I’d been within inches of that place and never really stopped to grasp the situation, I never considered the pain and sadness of the people pulling in and out of that parking lot. My concern was to navigate as quickly as possible around and past the people.

That’s what’s wrong with a big part of our society, people like me, or how I used to be; in a hurry and thinking only of themselves. I know it’s common for younger people, they struggle with grasping that someday their roads will lead them to the same place… the cemetery…

The choices we make, the roads we choose will determine where we end up, the final resting place for our bones is pretty irrelevant. Where our soul resides is the real issue.

The well-groomed green grass and the vibrant flowers look peaceful. The grass, flowers, and kind words written on the head stones can’t reveal if the person whose bones lay below the surface of the earth will have peace or torment. That choice was made while they were on this side of the dirt.

I’m certain that no one would travel the roads of their life and choose a destination other than heaven on purpose… We’d just miss all the signs and turns as we’re speeding our lives away…