[focus on what can’t be destroyed] That may be the only way to keep from growing mad and going broken in your mind. Wearing out in the futility of never finding you’ve gone anywhere. And convincing yourself that your life is filled with value when, in fact, it may be totally valueless. The crazy pushing you forward, not the meaning. Everyone a lunatic. The moment it all makes sense is just around the next corner, over the next hill, and through the next bend. The maze, deepening. Earthly permanence, elusive. Your life’s stamp running away, just as you close in to press.

The earth and sky offering little for you to remain longer than afternoon rains in the mountains. They’re puffy white billows expanding rapidly as your lungs fill with oxygen and rolling forward like the skin drooping and falling from your bones. We’d like to stay, but no accomplishment makes it so. The earth’s paltry offerings prioritized before that which cannot be destroyed. His word. His words said: the only permanence. And a focus therein the only lasting way a mind can find normalcy.

Normalcy among the transient. Catching all the happy, boxing it, tagging, and knowing, deep down, even all the best feelings won’t answer the question of what, if anything, lasts. Living amongst such perpetual destruction, we’d give anything to pause progress, slow time, and stop motion for a minute, but, alas, a mind on his word embraces the earth and sky for the fleeting beauty it so often comes to tragically represent. The destruction before the revelation: everlasting words, never ending glory.

“Heaven and earth shall pass away, but my words shall not pass away.” ‭‭Matthew‬ ‭24‬:‭35‬ ‭KJV‬