Every Part of Life May Mind Thee of Death

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Joshua

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A good word from the Rev. George Swinnock (Works, vol. 3, p. 436):

Every part of thy life may mind thee of thy death. The moralist speaks true: ‘Thou livest by deaths.’ Thy food is the dead carcases of birds, or fish, or beasts; thy finest raiment is the worm’s grave before it is thy garment. Look to the heavens: the sun riseth and setteth; so that life which now shineth pleasantly on thee will set. How much doth it behove thee to work the work of him that sent thee into the world while day lasteth, that thou mayest not set in a cloud, which will certainly prognosticate thy foul weather in the other world! Look down to the earth; there thou beholdest thy mother, out of whose womb thou didst at first come, and in whose bowels thou shalt ere long be laid. The dust and graves of others cry aloud to thee, as Gideon to his soldiers, Look on us, and do likewise.

Oh trim thy soul against that time! If thou risest up, and walkest abroad in the streets, thou seest this house and that seat, where such a woman, such a man dwelt, and lo, the place which knew them shall know them no more; they are gone, and have carried nothing with them but their godliness or ungodliness. If thou liest down, thy sleep is the image of death; thou knowest not whether thou shalt awake in a bed of feathers, or in a bed of flames; but art certain, that shortly thy body shall lie down in the grave, and there remain till the resurrection. Look on thy companions, thou mayest see death sitting on their countenances; it is creeping on them in the deafness of their ears, in the dimness of their eyes, nay, it is posting towards them in the very height and zenith of their natural perfections.

Look on thy own house of clay; death possibly looks out at thy windows, however it looks in at thy windows; thou wearest it in thy face, thou bearest it in thy bones, and doth it not behove thee to prepare for it? Naturalists tell us, that smelling of earth is very wholesome for consumptionate bodies. O reader, a serious thought of thy death, that thou art but dust, would be very wholesome for thy declining and decaying soul!​
 
Look on thy companions, thou mayest see death sitting on their countenances; it is creeping on them in the deafness of their ears, in the dimness of their eyes, nay, it is posting towards them in the very height and zenith of their natural perfections.

What a good word this quote is to me. Finally, I meet a kindred spirit, for I have made death my study for fifty years since the Lord first set His mercy on me.

As a new Christian, I spent many an hour early in the morning in cemeteries for my devotions. In dark times in my life, I visited cemeteries in the middle of the night, and laying down on a gravesite; I pondered my future.

My final wishes have been written, my burial plot and all expenses paid, my plain unfinished pine box chosen. Psalm 90 will be the heart of my funeral service. As a Psalm singer, I will make an exception, and my favorite hymn will be sung. For all the Saints.

But I am not the least bit morbid about it. The older I get, the more I look forward to my sleep--my long home. (Ecclesiastes 12:5) My body is breaking down in many ways, and thanks to Covid, I can't smell anything, and what taste I have is horrible, and I can hardly eat, and desire is failing. But, a saying of mine goes something like this. In fact, it is on my signature below.

"As I get older, I find, I am only losing things that I cannot keep, but gaining things that I cannot lose."

Don't live your life as though you will live here forever.
 
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