1 Don’t let the excitement of youth cause you to forget your Creator. Honor him in your youth before you grow old and say, “Life is not pleasant anymore.” 23 Remember him before your legs—the guards of your house—start to tremble; and before your shoulders—the strong men—stoop. Remember him before your teeth—your few remaining servants—stop grinding; and before your eyes—the women looking through the windows—see dimly. Remember him before the light of the sun, moon, and stars is dim to your old eyes, and rain clouds continually darken your sky.
4 Remember him before the door to life’s opportunities is closed and the sound of work fades. Now you rise at the first chirping of the birds, but then all their sounds will grow faint.
5 Remember him before you become fearful of falling and worry about danger in the streets; before your hair turns white like an almond tree in bloom, and you drag along without energy like a dying grasshopper, and the caperberry no longer inspires sexual desire. Remember him before you near the grave, your everlasting home, when the mourners will weep at your funeral.
6 Yes, remember your Creator now while you are young, before the silver cord of life snaps and the golden bowl is broken. Don’t wait until the water jar is smashed at the spring and the pulley is broken at the well. 7 For then the dust will return to the earth, and the spirit will return to God who gave it. – Ecclesiastes 12:1 – 7 NLT
Dear Chichelh Siya:m (local name for Yahweh),
I see my father, a wilted flower on the sofa, whittling away his days in front of the screen. Once vital, robust, a million projects buzzing simultaneously. Once driven and deliberate, galloping like a steed thru the trails of the life´s valleys. His hearing´s poor, my voice is hoarse. He moves at snail´s pace and hobbles o´er wooden floors. He reminisces of days gone by, the people, the places, the triumphs and tears. All he wants now is to keep his license and remain on the farm, trimming Christmas trees and spraying pesticide, walking with Running Room buddies, and wishing his kids would come to visit.
And I´m not far behind, 20, 30, 40 years more at most, they´ll go by like a blink, and the date of my flight´ll arrive sooner than the dawn, yeah I say, suddenly like a thief in the night.
Remember your Creator in the days of your youth. While u´re still strong, the days at hand´ll not be as long…as you thot they´d be, in all their glory. The surprises ahead will never cease, so to be forewarned is fore-armed. Put your treasures in the heavens where moth, rust and stealers have no power. Sell all and give to the poor, provide bags for yourself from the everlasting wealth, enjoyed invisibly from here now and henceforth. Yahweh, Father, Lord o´the galaxies, make my time on this spinning dustbowl worth every second, and may U derive honour from me, my family and my neighbours, my friends.