life is a train

It always amazes me when I hear about people getting killed by trains. I guess I feel they provide adequate warnings of their approach. First, there's that deafening whistle which would make even a hearing-impaired old man jump out of his clothes. And what about the huge, blinking barriers that lower across the road when the train gets closer? From what I've heard, stopping a train is no easy business: the momentum of the long line of railroad cars is a force of motion not easily interupted. Perhaps villians of old knew this all too well, and thus chose to dispose of the helpless, tied-and-gagged mistress this way.

I feel that life is a train. As we live through each day, it's almost like adding another boxcar to our track. When the sun sinks below the horizon each dusk, we have a little more to carry with us, whether it be good or bad. We bear the weight of responsibility and the more we know, the more we are required to tow along with us, regardless of our destination.

Sometimes I wonder why life feels so rushed. It's like I'm staring at the engine as it chugs away; I'm idle at the controls and unsure which lever affects what. Although it's a feeling of slight helplessness, I think this is the state in which we are supposed to be. The truth is, our lives are plummeting at an unthinkable rate into something we don't understand fully. We're bound for eternity, but how how many of us truly understand what that means?

And who among us can fully explain the engine, the controls...the will of God? Who can entirely grasp our present existence? All we have is the hope and promise of Him who created this chugging, plummeting train we're all on. And He called it good.