I was thinking of the words of an old
hymn, “This world is not my home,
I’m just a passin’ through.” And I realized
these words expressed exactly what I feel—
have felt for a good long time now.
Here in what may be called the autumn of
my years, I realize there are many more sunsets
behind me than lie ahead of me. That time is
no longer on my side, and passes as quickly
by me, as a jet plane across a clear blue sky.
For some time now I have been more concerned
with building treasures for the life beyond, than
worrying about the little treasures I now possess,
or those I have lost or discarded along my way.
Too old now to plan great and wonderful things.
Save for those loved ones dearest to me, whom I
pray for with all my heart, every day and every night,
there is little in this world that holds my interest.
My days are spent, in the words of Paul the Apostle,
“working out my salvation with fear and trembling.”
Peace is found in the silence of heart, spirt and soul,
where I meet the Almighty in my many prayers—
in the sanctuary each morning where I receive the
Bread of Life, my needed nourishment on the journey.
In the sacred hours of solitude, closing out the world.
Listening for those inner whisperings from beyond this,
where Love beckons my weary heart and tired soul to
prepare in this life for the holy mysteries of the next.
Where I ask God to heal the pain, and empty me of
all anger, regret, and disappointment of days long gone.
To love all, forgive all, to remember not the former things,
and leave the past in the heap of ashes it truly is, to live in
the now, the hour, with a new heart, a heart cleansed of all
the dirt and dust accumulated in my long history.
And to trust Him, only Him, above all other creatures.
To live each day in gratitude for what I have, and what I
have survived, and to remember it could have been otherwise.
To live as though it may be the last day, and cast all worries,
fears, and useless anticipations upon the winds of nevermore.
And to remember, “This world is not my home,
I’m just a passin’ through.”
© Richard Keith Carlton