"All men are like grass, and all their glory is like the flowers of the field.
The grass withers and the flowers fall..."
Isaiah 40:6

As we run this finite race of life
To the finish line in swiftness of soul,

We undress ourselves of the baggage of strife
Take love in our steps to reach our goal.

Forgetting whatever lies behind
We set our hearts on the eternal price

Fixing our eyes on Jesus we find
His strength and power in us will arise.

As we number our days like fleeting mist
And our frailty of body declaring

The end line maybe right here in our midst
Our life may be in for a proper accounting.

For Death like a Thief always comes uninvited
And will cut through the race with his sickle

The call may come quick and be quite unexpected
Taking us suddenly out of the hurdle.

So let go of all sin and feelings of hate,
Be free of desires for material things,

Release and forgive before it's too late
The hourglass of life goes on emptying.

For the brevity of life is but a single breath
And we all will take flight as a bird

A destiny set for men to meet Death
Running only on the promise of God's Word.












"Show me, O Lord, my life's end
and the number of my days;
let me know how fleeting is my life.

You have made my days a mere handbreath;
the span of my years mean nothing to You.

Each man's life is but a breath."

Psalm 39:4-5