I’ve recalled that remark at every funeral I have attended since. I can’t summon a better, more succinct narrative of life on earth. It’s a temporary state.
Our body propels us around the planet, but at heaven’s door, it’s discarded like the cocoon after the butterfly emerges. We need it for a time, but not forever. And it’s not who we are, it’s just what we use while we’re here. Our earth suit serves a purpose, but it’s not the purpose. It’s the JUST.
It’s JUST the vehicle in which we navigate through life, acquiring and creating, working and playing, attaching and detaching, laughing and crying. It gets us around, but it eventually wears out.
It’s our temporary housing.
As I’ve reflected on this over the years (here’s David today, in his earth suit, with daughter Maddy in hers) I’ve learned it’s important to focus less on the earth suit and more on the spirit that resides within.
I need to identify my personal strengths and challenge my weaknesses. Find ways to contribute. Clean out the emotional cobwebs and maintain honest relationships.
I want to cultivate a life of purpose and substance, so when the earth suit releases me, I’ve got something to show for it. When I’m at heaven’s door, I don’t want to be held back by regrets or unresolved issues.