Tonight I was sorting through old pictures on my laptop in an attempt to free up some disk space. In the process, I re-encountered some bits and pieces of life I had captured in photos. What I thought was going to be a menial, organizational task of rearranging and consolidating files and folders turned out to be something quite different. I was caught off guard by what ended up being a deeply emotional and contemplative experience.
As I scanned through the pictures, I often laughed out loud (quietly since it's late and everyone else in my house is asleep) at the unfettered zaniness of my kids and the pure joy in their smiles caught on camera. I was nearly in disbelief as I compared pictures of my daughter where she barely came up to my wife's waist from what seems like not so long ago and from this year where she is practically at her shoulder's height. I looked through pictures of our family, and the church which has become our family, with deep gratitude and hopefulness. Seeing a sort of slideshow of where God has brought us and knowing I deserve none of it renews my amazement at the graciousness my Father. As I looked at pictures of young kids from the church who are now teenagers and will soon be adults, I thought about the seeds we are sowing for the future of these young people and the legacy we will leave.
And to be honest, all these snapshots of life also broke my heart. It broke not at the remembrance of any particular person whom I will no longer see in this world, though there were those pictures. But it broke at seeing in an instant the brevity of life, how quickly it all rushes by... I cannot comprehend how those without the hope of eternity cope with this overwhelming reality, unless their tactic is simply do their best to forget or pretend it isn't there. James writes, "For what is your life? It is even a vapor that appears for a little time and then vanishes away." How profoundly, tragically true.
But the beautiful thing is that this fleeting vapor will not be the end for those who have hope in Christ. All the things we wished we could've started but now it's too late, all the things we dreamed of accomplishing but never found time for, all the things we worked on and gave our lives to but never got to finish... will not be lost. Instead, all the hollow, hopeless vanity that makes your heart sink as you wonder what happened to the years and stare in the mirror at a person who you know can't be you, will be cast off like a winter coat on the first warm day of spring. The relentless march of time and decay and death will be turned backward. The One who conquered the grave will lift us up to an everlasting hope. The vapor that is life will congeal into something solid and vibrant and enduring, which can be threatened no more. This is resurrection. This is the promise of grace.
JRR Tolkien wrote a short story about a painter named Niggle who began a painting of a tree during his life, but because of distraction and lack of time and other duties was never able to complete it. In fact, he only ever completed one leaf to his satisfaction. The time for Niggle's journey comes upon him, though he is not ready and unprepared and regrets not ever having finished that painting his heart truly longed to create. But at the end of his journey, he discovers he has been brought to the country of his tree. There it stands, real, perfect and complete, yet only one of a whole forest. Niggle realizes that his vision of the tree before his journey was just the beginning and he can live in and continue in the fullness of the dream which he had captured but a leaf of during his life. That tree of life and hope is waiting for us because the Eternal One tasted vanity and death on the Tree of Calvary. Our vapor will be turned to life because His life was made a vapor.
