'They sit oblivious of their peril

They sit oblivious of their peril

There is a picture of an artist sitting on an ocean rock which had been left bare by the retreating waves. There he sat, sketching on his canvas the beautiful things which filled his vision — sky, earth, and sea — all unconscious that the tide had turned, and was rising, and had cut him off already from the shore, and was rapidly covering the rock on which he sat.

He was utterly oblivious of the tempest, the waves, the rising sea — so absorbed was he in his picture. Even the cries of his friends, as they shouted to him from the shore, were unheard.

Just so do men grow absorbed in the baubles of this world, and perceive not the tides of judgment rolling on, nor hear the calls of friends warning them of their peril. They are aware of no danger.

They hear not the rushing of the angry waters. They see not the tokens of death's approach. They sit oblivious of their peril — until the peril has swallowed them up!

We are very foolish if we lose our eternal soul — in the intensity of our quest after the trinkets this poor fleeting world.

"For what will it profit a man if he gains the whole world, and loses his own soul?" Mark 8:36

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