When I'm born, I enter the world naked, no possessions and utterly dependent on others to care for and feed me. As a priest and pastor, it has amazed me how often the same lot accompanies one's passing from this life. A broken, failing body unable to sustain its own life, often dependent on family or nursing care, no longer able to eat or even drink faces an end where no earthly possession will matter for it must all be left behind.
Doesn't it seem strange then that we bring such an urgency to every breath we take in between that it defy this natural pattern of poverty and dependence? In setting out on such a journey is our life not spent like fish continuously swimming against the stream? With lives characterized by such innate discord and disharmony with the natural order, is it any wonder we so frequently find ourselves broken or troubled?
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