A walk down my suburban street always proves to be thought-provoking. Maybe it’s just me, but something about walking past the places where people live every day of their lives, seeing their windows and doors without knowing what’s inside — it makes one pensive.

I walked home and thought about life. The leaves, if not fallen, are beginning to be yellow and brown, not brilliant reds and golds like they were three weeks ago. Nothing stays the same for long. Things may be rosy one moment and bitter the next. One may be in the valley and find himself on the mountaintop in an instant. Mere seconds determine the direction of a life.

But then again, seasons always come and go.

All things are full of weariness, and man cannot utter it; the eye is not satisfied with seeing, nor the ear with hearing. What has been is what will be, and what has been done is what will be done, and there is nothing new under the sun.

I saw the neighbor weeding the garden while the sun set. His father painted the garage. I thought about work and reminded myself of my motto. Work, pray, love. Work is a fulfilling thing. Without it, we would have no accomplishment, nothing to earn. We would never be able to stand life without labor. If all is satisfaction, there is no satisfaction.

And let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up.

I saw children playing and thought about the passage of time. They peered at me as if I were a distant specter of the future, come to remind them that someday they, too, will exit the world of never-ending playtime and never be invited back. Not so distant, I thought. People like me looked so old when I was their age. Now that I am one of those people, I wonder what they think I am, what they expect of me. I wonder if I really am what they think.

I walked down the hill and saw my house, my yard, my porch light. And even though there was nothing for me in the mailbox, I was glad to be home.

All in a day’s walk.

Yours is the day, yours also the night; you have established the heavenly lights and the sun. You have fixed all the boundaries of the earth; you have made summer and winter.

Scripture references: Ecclesiastes 1: 8-9, Galatians 6:9, Psalm 74:16-17


4 thoughts on “Walk.

  1. I am 50 years old. A few years ago, it dawned on me that I looked at 80-year-olds like they were people who were totally different from anyone I would ever be. The elderly. Like they were a different race, instead of just someone who used to be just like me and now are just a few years down the road. And then I realized that when I was 10 I probably thought the same way about adults my parent’s age. Now I know. If I am lucky enough I WILL be one of those eighty-year-old people I thought I would never become. And it will be here much, much faster than I ever dreamed.

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