The valley is browned and chilly on this rainy fall afternoon .
The river is moving rapidly. Imperceptibly, the water is eroding, molding the clay of the river bank.
Recently I witnessed the flooding in a northern section of the Mississippi. The effects were more apparent and dramatic. We learn of even greater forces at work further south. The river has left death, devastation and destruction in its path.
At the same time, flooding in Asia has left thousands dead and many millions homeless. The scale of such a disaster is beyond our comprehension. We grieve for a world burdened by the curse inflicted as a consequence of sin.
The inescapable flow of time and change molds us all. Time’s surging stream is untameable as the mightiest river. During our travels, we attended a funeral. Eighty nine years blend into the past, as mortal remains begin to mingle with the soil of Minnesota. “Thou carriest them away as with a flood…in the morning they are like grass which groweth up…In the evening it is cut down and withereth” (Psa. 90:5,6).
In another sphere, the transitory nature of human experience is also illustrated. For 35 years there has been a “Woodward’s” credit card in my wallet. Now it is filed away, along with other mementos of three decades of employment with Western Canada’s foremost department store chain. Not long ago, Woodward’s was the most successful regional department store group in North America. But no more. The river of economic change has swept away the prosperity of their 26 stores. They are now closed as, after 101 years of operation, the company ceased to exist.
For months, thousands of employees were disturbed by prolonged uncertainty and then cast adrift into the flood of unemployed. Their sufferings do not compare with those of the flood victims of parts of the United States and Asia. But they are trying times nonetheless as the river of change throws into disorder that which had seemed stable and secure.
Back home after my walk, I remove my sweater and feel a chronic twinge of pain from a persistent inflammation. The passing years work no favors on the human frame. Rather, time’s current bears us swiftly along, confining us, for the present, within the valley of the shadow of death.
“So teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom.
“Return, 0 LoRD! How long?
“Make us glad as many days as thou hast afflicted us, and as many years as we have seen evil.
“Let thy work be manifest to thy servants, and thy glorious power to their children” (Psa. 90:12,13,15,16 RSV).
The Origin of the Organic World – Part One