A new standard with which to measure our deeds: the standard of eternity
The silo is bursting at its seams. An abundant crop fills his storehouse, and the farmer is beaming with pride and joy.
Yet here and there, the glow of the season is already beginning to fade. The nights are slowly pushing back against the sun’s fierce dominance as the daylight gradually recedes. The heat of the sun is slowly being tempered, and a cool wind is making its presence known in the evening. The lush green of the fields is slowly succumbing to the yellow and brown of the drying stalks and chaff.
Looking at himself in the mirror, the farmer detects the same tinge of creeping decline. Gray streaks his hair, lines crease his skin, and he feels a distinct weariness in his bones.
There seems to be a mean irony to the situation. He has worked so hard to get to this peak, yet once he reaches it, the only way to go is downhill. What’s the point of the climb?
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