Isn't this eternal?

“I wished she’d never stop squeezing me. I wished I could spend the rest of my life as a child, being slightly crushed by someone who loved me.”  -Gail Carson Levine

We grow up, we grow old, and we die. We leave just as many more homes as we create.

We believe in eternal life, but the scenes and stages of our lives on earth are just a glancing moment. There is no permanence here. Spouses and children are sealed, but what guarantee do we have for our friendships? 

Isn't this eternal? No. It is not.

Moments pass and fade and die, and even our memories fail us in the end. 

Isn't this eternal? No. It is not.

It is but one scene in a long play, which helps to shape the conclusion, but the specifics of which are forgotten long before the curtain closes. This time is but a sandy footprint near the tide; necessary for the journey forward, but eroded with a sandy mixture almost before the foot leaves the mold.  

Isn't this eternal? No, it is not.

But that doesn't mean that it isn't important. 

Life is better taken at a run; a good clean break from the last step, a firm new footing for the next one. But I find myself trudging along, dragging my feet, unwilling to let go of my previous step and take a bold new one. Even I know this is no way to walk or to live. 

But I love the past. I hate to let it go.

 I fear the future. I hate each halting step I'm forced to take in life's great race. 

Yet I must keep moving forward. I must complete the course. 

Shall I falter, or shall I finish? 

And although the individual steps are blurred together in the rush of the journey, some can be recalled with the right trigger. 

And although each individual moment cannot be reclaimed, not a single one is lost in the mind or life of the runner. Each step and every moment is eternal in memory alone, but important all the same.