Unclothed
Unclothed
In sad moments, I sometimes dwell on sad things.
Like those who I love lying there buried six
or so feet in the ground with dirt over them.
They are soulless, empty shells lying there. Bodies
of flesh that I loved, respected, hugged, kissed.
I would not dare do so now since they have no life.
It seems so strange that they are in the earth. But
the real “them”is no longer there, gone like when a
caterpillar sheds its shell before becoming a butterfly.
Their souls are with the Lord but unclothed without a
body, as the apostle says about death and resurrection in the
future when Christ returns and their souls will be clothed with a
new body, when they rise from the earth to meet Him in the air.
What an immense comfort as we all walk day by day, with some
trepidation, toward that unclothing and rest, while waiting for
resurrection with the “clothing” of our soul with our new body.
As the apostle tells us, “For we who are in this tent [body] groan,
being burdened, not because we want to be unclothed [in death], but
further clothed, that mortality may be swallowed up by life.”
