No matter where you are on the bell curve of life, all flesh is like the grass, and the grass withers. This weekend, I had some time on my hands. I watched two documentaries; both were about men who had the world by the tail in the 80s and 90s. As I watched their stories and saw them reminisce on the past, all I could think of was that the flower had faded. This sorrowful thought was not to disparage them. I respect them for their talents and abilities, but both are nearing the end of their lives. So, my heart was asking: what is the appraisal of a life when all is said and done?
Our problem is not that the flower fades—it is what we thought the flowers were for
When we look at a fading flower of special acclaim, we all feel the ache. I do not think that ache is misguided—I believe it is God-given, and engraved on every soul. We know this is not the way it is supposed to be. We have eternity written on our hearts, and this fading is the result of a fallen world.
Still, it seems we exacerbate the ache when we misunderstand the flowers’ purpose. We often think it is about bringing glory to ourselves when we were designed to glorify God. If the beauty of our life is about self-magnification, then we will certainly despair as we begin to falter. As we fade, so does our purpose and hope. But if it is about glorifying God, his glory remains unchanged even as we wither. In fact, our fading becomes an even greater opportunity to direct others to his light.
Fading is a form of slow unmasking
Fading removes illusions of self-sufficiency, permanence, and mastery. When one of our idols is at the peak of their performance, we speak of their genius, their craft, and their glory, but even these artists, athletes, and other various greats are not the ultimate captains of their fate. Fading begins to uncover that reality ever so slowly, and sometimes quickly. God is not taking things away cruelly; he is telling the truth, gently, over time. He does it for the person themselves, and for all other onlookers. He wants us to know that this life is not all there is.
What remains when the flower is gone?
Paul’s words in 1 Corinthians chapter 13 address this topic indirectly. He talks about spiritual gifts, leadership, prophecy, and many other expressions of usefulness, but in the end, he says, “These three remain: faith, hope, and love—and the greatest of these is love.” Faith when earthly glory has faded, hope when the future narrows, and love when there is nothing left to prove.
The flower was never meant to secure our worth. It was meant to glorify God by cultivating what lasts. Fading has a way of unmasking us; it exposes what we built our lives on and reveals what we will carry into eternity.
The question is not whether the flower will fade—it will. The question is how a life will be appraised when it does. Not by how brightly it bloomed, but by what remains when the bloom is gone.
D. Eaton
The Fight of Faith 