A Voice Said Cry

"What do you want to name your blog?" my Dad asked.
"Can't you just name it for me?" I didn't really expect him to, but from experience I knew that naming things was my weak point. My cat is named Cousy (French; pronounced Coosy), an aristocrat we studied last year in school. Mom says it's a girl's name, and she's probably right. My guitar's name is Merry--sort of just stuck, though I thought about naming it Therilian. I've done worse. In a story I wrote, I came up with an amazing character who's a nervous wreak, an extreme clean freak, and terrified of the outside world. I named him Danny. Nothing wrong with the name Danny of course, but for literary purposes I could have done better. Either that or I'll come up with great names and throw them away on unimportant objects. So, what should I name my blog?
As I thought about it some more that night, my conversation with my Dad reminded me of one of my favorite passages in Scripture, where Isaiah found himself in a similar dilemma.

     A voice said, "Cry."
     And I said, "What shall I cry?"

What was the answer to Isaiah's question?

     All flesh is grass,
     And all its beauty is like the flower of the field.
     The grass withers, the flower fades
     When the breath of the Lord blows on it;
     Surely the people are grass.
     The grass withers, the flower fades,
     But the word of our God will stand forever.

What's the purpose of blogging, or writing, or public-speaking or preaching or painting or acting or any form of art? Twofold: one, to remind mankind that we're not as important as we think we are. In fact, compared to God we're just like flowers that live for a day and pass away when God calls us to. The other purpose of art is to remind us that God and His Word are eternal.
Every culture, American culture, South Asian culture, Kiwi culture, isn't going to last forever. But God will. And even the dying flower can remind us how great our God is.