This morning I felt the weight of this earthly body in a way that cannot be ignored. Age has a quiet way of speaking. The strength that once felt permanent now comes and goes. The body reminds a man that he was never designed to live here forever. And with that reminder comes a deeper longing, not for youth, but for eternity.
Scripture says, “For we know that if the earthly tent we live in is destroyed, we have a building from God, an eternal house in heaven, not built by human hands.” (2 Corinthians 5:1) That promise grows sweeter with the years. The older a man becomes, the more he understands that this life is temporary. The aches and limits of the body are not curses; they are reminders that something better has been prepared.
But as my body grows weaker, my eyes grow sharper. Age strips away illusion. It removes distraction. And what I see happening in this nation is not just troubling, it is sobering. I feel like I am watching the foundations crack in real time. Peace feels thinner. Justice feels uneven. Truth feels negotiable. Division runs deeper than politics. The ground feels unstable, as though the pillars that once held this country steady are being deliberately shaken.
I see leaders on the liberal left pushing far beyond policy debates. It feels like an effort to reshape the moral framework of the nation itself. Long-held truths about family, gender, faith, and national identity are being dismantled. Borders are treated as optional. Law is treated as flexible. Crime is excused in the name of compassion. Hard work is penalized while dependency grows. Truth is no longer discovered; it is declared. Faith is mocked. Morality is labeled intolerance. What once anchored this nation is now treated as a threat.
Scripture warned that such days would come: “Woe unto them that call evil good, and good evil; that put darkness for light, and light for darkness.” (Isaiah 5:20) Those words no longer feel distant. They feel present. What was once shameful is celebrated. What was once honored is attacked. And those who refuse to bend are treated like the problem.
History teaches a pattern that cannot be ignored. When a people drift from God, confusion follows. When truth is traded for convenience, disorder takes its place. A nation cannot reject moral authority and expect lasting stability. It cannot silence conscience and expect peace. The consequences are not mysterious. They unfold slowly, then suddenly.
President John Adams warned, “Our Constitution was made only for a moral and religious people. It is wholly inadequate to the government of any other.” That was not a sermon. It was a sober understanding of human nature. Freedom only works when people govern themselves with virtue. When self-restraint disappears, external control eventually replaces it.
That is what concerns me most. Not elections alone. Not headlines alone. But the erosion of character. A nation does not collapse overnight. It weakens when truth becomes flexible, when responsibility becomes optional, and when citizens forget that liberty demands discipline.
Yet even in this reality, there remains hope. Throughout history, whenever people humbled themselves and returned to God sincerely, mercy followed. Judgment is not God’s desire; it is the result of persistent rebellion. Repentance has always opened the door to restoration.
As an older man, I do not fear what is coming as much as I grieve what is being lost. My confidence is not in political systems or cultural movements. Nations rise and fall. Bodies age and fade. But the kingdom of God stands untouched.
This earthly body may grow weaker, and this nation may tremble, but the promises of God do not age. They do not weaken. They do not expire.
And perhaps that is what age is meant to teach us. When the body weakens, the eyes see more clearly what truly lasts.