Have you ever really taken a moment to think about time? Not just the hours on a clock or the days on a calendar, but how quickly it all slips by? We wake up, go about our day, and before we know it, another week has vanished. And yet, deep down, we know time isn’t just something we spend—it’s one of the most valuable things we’ve been given. It shapes who we are, how we love, and the kind of legacy we leave behind. Maybe that’s why it matters so much—because once it’s gone, we can’t get it back.
Now that I’m 62, I find myself thinking about time more often than I ever did in my twenties or thirties. There’s something about holding my two-year-old son’s hand while realizing I’m old enough to be his grandfather that really puts things into perspective. My wife and I often laugh—we’re raising a toddler while many of our friends are busy spoiling their grandkids. God has certainly blessed me with a second time around—but this time it comes with more coffee and a lot less sleep. Time feels more fragile now, more precious. And when your neck cracks louder than your morning cereal, it’s a daily reminder that the clock is definitely ticking.
People most often approach time as if it’s something we own—a resource for us to waste, save, or spend. How often do we actually sit back and really think about how short our time is here? But what if we slowed down—just long enough to grasp the weight of each moment? What if time wasn’t just a list of appointments to keep, but a godly invitation to live with purpose, to make every second count?
“For we are but of yesterday and know nothing, for our days on earth are a shadow” (Job 8:9).
That verse of Scripture reminds us that our days on earth are fleeting, and each year we’re reminded of this as time swiftly passes. It’s a humbling thought, isn’t it? How quickly the seasons roll by, how quickly our minutes slip away. And yet, we all share in that same reality.
A few years back, I heard Billy Graham preach a sermon entitled “Life Is Short.” I remember how it touched my heart. He quoted a verse in James: “What is your life? It’s even a vapor that appears for a little time and then vanishes away” (James 4:14). He was direct to youth in particular, calling them to notice how quickly time passes and to live their lives with what matters most.
He stressed the urgency of acting now—loving your family, sharing the gospel, giving generously, serving faithfully, and studying God’s Word—because none of us knows how much time we have left. As Jesus warned, “The night is coming when no one can work” (John 9:4). That verse continues to stir me. It challenges me even now to be more intentional with my time and to stay focused on what truly matters.
For some, what matters most is checking off items on their “bucket list.” At its core, that drive often stems from the belief that this life is all there is before we “kick the bucket.” But Scripture calls us to a higher perspective—one that looks beyond the fleeting pleasures of this world and toward the eternal promises of God. We’re not just living for now; we’re preparing for forever.
“Show me, Yahweh, my life’s end and the number of my days; let me know how fleeting my life is” (Psalm 39:4-5).
As followers of Christ, we’re called to look beyond the temporary. Scripture tells us there’s something greater coming—something real and lasting. God has promised a full restoration of all things—a renewed earth, free from sin, suffering, and death. Jesus called it a “new beginning.”
Sadly, the wonderful truth about the new earth that saved people will enjoy is almost completely unknown to most Christians, due to the unbiblical belief that “heaven” is the eternal home of the saved. But Scripture is clear: Jesus will return to earth, and when he does, the saved will be with him—right here, in a renewed world.
That promise turns everything upside down. It changes the way we perceive time. It gives our pain meaning. It adds depth to our everyday lives with a sense of calling and purpose. Even our bucket lists become less about a mad dash to the finish line and more about an advance showing of the joy yet to be.
“Our days are seventy years, or eighty, if we grow strong and upright— for soon and swiftly we take to flight, and vanish” (Psalm 90:10).
Our time here on earth is brief, yes—but it’s also filled with awe. There’s beauty in laughter, in love, in connection with one another, and in the stillness of God. But all that beauty is only a glimpse of the incredible future God has in store for all those who are born of His spirit.
Time is a precious treasure. God has entrusted it to us—not to waste or fear, but to live boldly and use wisely. That starts by looking for opportunities to reach out to someone in your life who is quietly searching for more—perhaps more meaning, more peace, more truth. God wants to work through you to help guide them toward something better. We don’t know how many days we have left, so let’s take to heart the reminder: “Make the best use of the time, because the days are evil” (Ephesians 5:16).
Charles Spurgeon once said, “The years of our life are few and evil; let us redeem the time and walk soberly, righteously, and godly in this present world.”
There is no time to waste. So let’s live with urgency—not out of fear, but with clear purpose. Let hope shape the way we love, the way we serve, and the way we live each day in light of eternity. This life is not a rehearsal. Every moment matters. We are called to live boldly and intentionally, knowing that what we do now echoes into forever.
In the midst of life’s busyness and endless distractions, we must not forget the gift we’ve been entrusted with—time. Each day is a fresh opportunity to love deeply, serve faithfully, and live purposefully. As we redeem the time, our lives should shine as beacons of hope for those still lost in the dark. In the end, it won’t be the number of days we’ve lived that matters most—it will be the lives we’ve touched. So let’s press on, fueled by the promise of God’s renewal and the joy that awaits just beyond this life.
Redeeming the time with you,
