Grass Dries and Flowers Fade. The Poet-King Makes It Personal
What Shakespeare Got Wrong, What David Got Right, and Why It Matters to You Episode 19 from Psalm 103:15-16, in the series "From Dust to Eternity"
✝️ ANNOUNCEMENT: Join me this Lent on The Anglican. Ash Wednesday is March 5, but we will begin March 1 to prepare for our weekday devotionals. If you are a Paid Subscriber, you are set. If not, please join today. Subscribe and let’s do Lent together. ✝️
About Psalm 103
The psalm has become personal for me. It is no longer just a beautiful sentiment about God and His benefits for believers. It was that once, but no longer.
At verse 15, something shifts. David speaks of the brevity of life, the fleeting nature of our years. Perhaps he is looking in the mirror, as we all do, tracing the lines in his complexion, feeling the aches in his body. He is reckoning—honestly—with what it means to be mortal.
Here is what David wrote:
As for man, his days are like grass;
he flourishes like a flower of the field;
for the wind passes over it, and it is gone,
and its place knows it no more. — Psalm 103:15-16
Look Out!
You’ve had the moment.
You walk by a mirror in the hallway or bathroom, and something makes you stop.
For a split second, you don’t recognize the face looking back. The silver strands at the temples, the creases around the eyes, the body that doesn’t bounce back quite like it used to. You don’t feel older on the inside, but time has left its mark.
And suddenly, you feel temporary.
We live in a culture obsessed with youth, yet terrified of the mirror. Billboards and commercials tell us we should never sag, wrinkle, slow down, or show signs of wear.
Drink the right collagen powder. Apply the right serum. Take the right supplements. Stay young forever.
Are you tired of it? I am.
I’ve been balding since I was eighteen, and I have wished for a miracle cure more times than I can count. But David presses a sharper question:
What difference would it make?
Would a full head of hair add a single moment to my life? A hair’s breadth of time?
It all turns to dust. Ashes to ashes, we all fall down.
One is Cosmetic, Two is Denial
I will never forget a conversation I had with my mother.
She had divorced my stepfather in her early fifties and found herself alone. Late one night, after maybe a glass of wine or two or three, she called me. I could hear something in her voice—fear.
She was single again. For the third time. And her worst fear was staring her in the face: she was terrified of growing old alone.
She told me she had made up her mind—she was getting a facelift.
I didn’t object. But I knew the real issue was deeper. She wasn’t just trying to refresh her appearance. She was afraid. Afraid to be old. Afraid to look old. Afraid she would never have a man again. She needed to turn back time.
I reassured her. “Mom, you’re a wonderful woman. A good man will see that.”
Then she said something that stuck with me.
“If the facelift doesn’t do the trick, I’ll just go in for another one.”
That’s when I said something I have never regretted, but I always remember:
“Mom, one is cosmetic. Two is denial.”
We can freshen up. But at some point, we have to face reality.
Shakespeare’s View vs. David’s View
If you want to understand how the world views time and mortality, look no further than Shakespeare.
Shakespeare sees life as a fading performance—a play moving toward inevitable silence.
“Out, out, brief candle! Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player That struts and frets his hour upon the stage, And then is heard no more.” (Macbeth, Act 5, Scene 5)
We enter the world, play our role, and vanish—forgotten, erased by time. Shakespeare famously concludes:
“Life is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.”
It is hard to imagine a more despairing view of existence.
But David does not despair.
He sees the same brevity of life—but instead of silence, he finds mercy.
“As for man, his days are like grass…But the steadfast love of the Lord is from everlasting to everlasting.” (Psalm 103:15-17)
Shakespeare sees the brevity of life and concludes: Life is empty, short, and meaningless.
David sees the brevity of life and concludes: Life is short, yes—but God’s love is eternal, and that is what gives life meaning.
This is the critical difference.
Look in the Mirror with New Eyes
Find that mirror again. The one you hated to see yourself looking back. Find it, as, as David stood before his mirror, stand before this one and speak to yourself:
(Say your name), you are seen by God. You are known by Him. Even though your days are like grass, you are not; you are loved with an everlasting love. Your life is brief, but God’s mercy is eternal. Even though you will fade, His love will never fade.
Then realize one last triumph on this topic: Shakespeare world ends. For him, the end of it all is silence. For David, the end is praise. The world tells us that our lives are like a candle burning out. The Bible tells us that we are like grass, but that God breathes His mercy upon us and gives us life beyond the grave.
That is why, in the end, Shakespeare’s words fade into silence.
And David’s words rise in a song of praise.
DHR☩
The Anglican is the Substack newsletter for LeaderWorks, where I share insights, encouragement, and practical tools for clergy and lay Christians. I’m also an author of over a dozen books available on Amazon.
If you are a Paid Subscriber, thank you! Thank you for supporting The Anglican and the ministry of LeaderWorks. If you are not a subscriber, please consider becoming one today.