As the year comes to a close, there is a natural slowing if we allow it. The days shorten, the calendar thins, and the noise of life softens just enough to invite reflection. We begin to look back—not only at what we did, but at what truly mattered. Endings have a way of drawing our thoughts inward and asking questions we often avoid when life is busy.
One of those truths is simple and unavoidable: death is part of life. I don’t say that to bring sadness, but to speak honestly. Scripture tells us there is a time to be born and a time to die. From the moment we are born, we begin moving toward an appointed day. This past year reminded us of that again. The young and the old, the well-known and the unknown—lives ended, stories closed, and the world kept moving forward.
Yet death is not the end of the story. It is only a doorway.
The body grows weak and returns to dust, but the soul never dies. God has set eternity in the human heart, and what we do with Jesus Christ determines where that eternity will be spent. Jesus spoke without hesitation or fear when He said that He is the resurrection and the life, and that whoever believes in Him will live even though they die. That truth changes how we see everything. Fear loosens its grip, loss finds meaning, and hope begins to rise where uncertainty once lived.
As I’ve grown older, these truths have become clearer—not heavier. When I was young, life was about goals, schedules, and getting ahead. I measured days by accomplishment and progress. I still carry some of that drive, but something shifted this past year. I’ve slowed enough to notice more—the people around me, the quiet conversations, the beauty in ordinary moments, and the small mercies I once rushed past without seeing.
When I was young, death felt distant and unreal. In my twenties, I began thinking ahead, wondering what my life might become. By my forties, life settled into routine—working, providing, and looking forward to weekends, vacations, and holidays. Now, in this later season, my thoughts have shifted again. I think less about career and more about character, less about success and more about meaning, less about making a living and more about how a life is lived.
Moses prayed that God would teach us to number our days so that we might gain a heart of wisdom. That prayer carries weight, because wisdom comes when we understand that time is short, but eternity is long, and that our days are meant to prepare us for what lasts forever.
C.S. Lewis once wrote that if we aim at heaven, we get earth thrown in, but if we aim only at earth, we get neither. Knowing Christ gives life its true direction. Death no longer has the final word—hope does.
That is why this reflection does not end in sorrow, but in peace. The grave is not our destination. Jesus is. And because He lives, so shall we.
That is why I write—just some thoughts. Not because I have all the answers, but because each passing year helps me see more clearly what truly matters, and where real joy is found.