“Bless the Lord, my soul; all my being, bless his holy name.”
— Psalm 103 (Grail)
How brief and passing is our life beneath the sun. The years unfold like shadows, our labors rise like smoke, shaping nothing that endures. The monuments we build, the words we speak, the plans we devise, all are carried off by the wind as if they had never been. Yet within this vanishing world there is a flame that does not fade. The Lord breathes His mercy into what is dust, and dust becomes praise.
The psalmist beholds the mystery of this mercy. The Lord remembers we are but clay, yet He crowns us with love and compassion. The human heart, so easily scattered among vain concerns, finds its home only in this remembrance. When fear stirs about the unknown, when anxious thought consumes the hours, the soul must turn back to the One who knows all things, who governs life with a tenderness deeper than any wisdom of our own.
It is not the strength of our labor that preserves us, but His steadfast love. It is not our vigilance that guards the day, but His mercy that wakes us each morning and lays us to rest each night. The passing of time, the decay of all that we build, become teachers whispering that only love endures.
Let every breath, every heartbeat, every fleeting hour become a hymn to that truth. Bless the Lord, O my soul, for He forgives, He heals, He redeems. He renews your youth like the eagle’s, not by erasing your frailty but by transforming it into praise.
So let go of the sorrow for time lost. Let go of anxiety over what lies ahead. All is known to Him who is Love. Let the only desire of your heart be to serve His providence, to walk in the peace of His will, and to rest like a child in the arms of the Father whose mercy endures forever.
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