Riding Trains with Solomon

Julianna and I visited Vienna this week, and to get there we caught an early train from Budapest. We awoke before dawn to get downtown in time to catch the train, so we were both pretty tired by the time we left the station. We settled back in our seats quietly--Julianna fell asleep promptly, but I didn't feel like napping. Instead, I took out my ipod and played one of my favorite tracks--a recording of the book of Ecclesiastes. 

Most Christians I know fear and misunderstand this book--not many people like to read it, because they say it's depressing. 

I disagree--I think it's priceless. 

My words have run dry for tonight, but I think it's better this way--maybe you'll go read it for yourself. If I could, I would try to tell you the comfort and relief I find in the blunt reminders of the Teacher--that the very things we chase after amount to nothing more than meaningless wind. The solemn reminder of my certain death and the clarity that should bring--these are the gifts of this book. 

I will die, I will leave behind whatever vanity I accrued--possessions, popularity, etc--, and I will be forgotten. 

I can't change this fact--and the wisdom within this is priceless. 

Life is so incredibly simple, really. 

And as I watched the sun creep higher above the rolling Hungarian landscape, I felt eternity.