Psalm 90: 10: The days of our years are threescore years and ten; and if by reason of strength they be fourscore years, yet is their strength labour and sorrow; for it is soon cut off, and we fly away.
When this vapor becomes no more than a whisper, when a single breath is all that remains, how vain will every idle thought have been? When my eyes have set and become hollow then they will afford me no more distractions whereby they deceived me in carrying me away to worldly heights. When my hands tremble with rigors uncontrollable they will only remind me that my flesh has been no strength at all. How vanishing is this life! How fragile is this grass! I am but dust. Since my birth this vessel has been returning to the ground. Soon, it is cut off. Lord, teach me to consider my Creator now! Teach me to apply my heart to wisdom, now and continually! Teach me that nothing else matters save my union with the Lord Jesus Christ my Righteousness.