For the wise man, like the fool, will not be long remembered; in days to come both will be forgotten. Like the fool, the wise man too must die! (Ecclesiastes 2:16)
My great-grandfather came west in a covered wagon to develop the raw the California desert. When I was a boy, his barn was knocked down and apartments were put up. Great-granddad is gone—a whole life is as though it never was. I don’t remember his name.
There are currently more than eight billion people on earth, and at least another fifty billion have come and gone. That’s fifty-eight billion sets of life experience all forgotten or marginally remembered. I don’t despair, however, because I possess an indestructible treasure that will outlive even the end of time.
I own the hope diamond. Not the one in the Smithsonian in Washington D.C., but the real hope diamond. The one in the museum should be called the Hopeless Diamond. Discovered in India, it was fashioned into the eye of a Hindu idol. When it was later stolen, a curse supposedly brought grief to everyone who owned it, including the beheaded Marie Antoinette. That Hope Diamond has a bitter past and a bleak future in the final blaze.
The hope diamond I own is the bright, translucent love of Christ. It sits atop the dark pile of human endeavors and shines indigo rays of beauty. I will live my brief span with enthusiasm, not because of some evaporative legacy, but because my name will never be forgotten in heaven. My hope is my one legitimate reason for joy.
Prayer: Resplendent Lord Jesus, your love is my bright reason for living.