A common greeting of these days is, "How are you?" The stereotype reply is, "Fine, and how are you?" I frequently give this reply to my friends. They be dismayed and bored if I tried to tell them the truth, because this jalopy which I call my body is getting worse and worse, and my friends recognize it and make mental note, "He is slipping fast." No one comments on description of "Fine," the obvious and colossal lie that it is.
This jalopy is getting into bad condition. The steering gear is so worn and wobbly that I have to use a cane to keep it from running off the road. The headlights are so dim that they shine only about a half or a third as much as they used to. The horn is a mere squawk. I only get about a tenth of the speed out of it that it gave a few years ago. And as for climbing hills, or even gentler slopes, the less said the better. It is clear that it is going to have to be junked one of these days. But the real person who lives inside this jalopy is a different story. God is much more real and his truth shines more brightly.
The companionship of Christ is more constant through His Holy Spirit, and He holds out a hope for a new model, after this jalopy is junked.