Tents Don't Last

It's interesting how some subjects come up during several unrelated conversations.
Yesterday I was talking to a friend about tents and how our bodies resemble tents in their fragility. They're just not built to last.
Then today, the subject came up again with another group of friends.
Tents are:

• flimsy
• thin
• not terribly warm
• can leak water
• aren't perfect protection from ferocious predators
• get worn out
• can be patched, but eventually. . . 

Sound like our bodies?
The older I get, the more I think about this analogy.
God didn't create our current physical bodies to last.
We live just long enough to accomplish the things He's called us to.
I need to continually remind myself of this fact.
I'm not going to be here, in this body, on this earth for very long.
In a few years, maybe sooner, God will call me home.
Ah, home.
That's where I really belong.
I'm just passing through this place.
I'm on my way to my destination.
Every time that I'm tempted to place too much importance on temporal things: my house, my appearance, my apparel, my stuff, my small worldly ambitions. . . I remember.
None of this will last.
What will last?
Have you thought about this, too?
What, if anything, that belongs to you, or that you've done or said will last for eternity?

"Now we know that if the earthly tent we live in is destroyed, we have a building from God, an eternal house in heaven, not built by human hands. Meanwhile we groan, longing to be clothed with our heavenly dwelling, because when we are clothed we will not be found naked. For while we are in this tent, we groan and are burdened, because we do not wish to be unclothed but to be clothed with our heavenly dwelling, so that what is mortal may be swallowed up by life." 2 Cor. 5:1-4 NIV)