Holy Week As a Sacred Symphony

Each year, Christians around the world walk through the sacred rhythms of Holy Week, revisiting the final days of Jesus’ earthly journey before the cross and the resurrection.

Why is observing Holy Week important to our preparation for Easter?  The traditional observance of Holy Week appears to have originated in the Christian East, emerging from the practice of pilgrimages to Jerusalem. Each day of Holy Week is significant to the overall story of the death, burial, and resurrection of Jesus.

Brian McLaren proposes, These special holidays give rise to various liturgical calendars that suggest we should mark our days not only with the cycles of the moon and seasons, but also with occasions to tell our children the stories of our faith community’s past so that this past will have a future, and so that our ancient way and its practices will be rediscovered and renewed every year.”

This year, I’m reflecting on the diverse rhythms of the passion narrative. When perceived through the lens of music, this holy season unfolds like a symphony—a diverse, emotive, and redemptive composition where each day plays its part in revealing the depth of God’s love and the drama of salvation.

Palm Sunday: The March Begins

The symphony opens with Palm Sunday, a bold and festive march. The crowd sings “Hosanna!” as Jesus rides into Jerusalem on a donkey. The beat is steady, the tempo triumphant. Like the opening bars of a grand orchestral procession, it sets the stage with hope and expectation. But even amid the praise, there is a foreshadowing dissonance—this King will reign, but not in the way they imagine.

Monday–Wednesday: An Overture of Tension

The days that follow—Monday through Wednesday—form a complex overture. In classical music, an overture introduces the themes that will appear throughout the performance. In these days, Jesus cleanses the temple, teaches in parables, rebukes hypocrisy, and foretells what is to come. The melodies are filled with warning and wisdom, rising and falling with tension. These are the movements of confrontation and anticipation.

Maundy Thursday: A Song of Love and Friendship

Then comes Maundy Thursday, a tender, sacred love song. In the upper room, Jesus shares the Passover meal with his disciples and washes their feet. He breaks bread and pours wine—symbols of his body and blood. The music here is intimate and hauntingly beautiful. It is the song of servant-hearted love and sacrificial friendship. “A new commandment I give you,” Jesus says, “Love one another as I have loved you.”

Good Friday: The Requiem of Sacrifice

Good Friday enters with a somber and heavy dirge. The tempo slows, the key turns minor, and the instruments echo sorrow. Betrayal. Trial. Crucifixion. The innocent one is condemned. The Son of God is lifted high on a cross. The sky darkens. The earth trembles. It is the day when silence screams and grief is loud. And yet—even in the dirge—there is harmony: a deeper, quieter melody of redemption unfolding beneath the sorrow.

Silent Saturday: The Low Chant of Waiting

Holy Saturday is like a chant sung in low tones. It is the pause in the symphony—the space between agony and triumph. The disciples are disoriented. The tomb is sealed. The world holds its breath. This chant is steady and subdued, wrapped in mystery. Though the music seems muted, heaven is not silent. In the stillness, hope waits.

Easter Sunday: A Triumphant Crescendo

And then… the symphony erupts with Easter Sunday’s triumphant crescendo! The stone is rolled away. The tomb is empty. Christ is risen! The music soars in resurrection glory. Trumpets sound. Choirs rise. The whole earth rejoices. This is the victorious finale of the sacred symphony—sin defeated, death undone, grace poured out like song.

Holy Week is not only something we observe—it is something we experience. Like a symphony, it moves through our hearts and souls, awakening emotion, inviting reflection, and pointing us toward hope.

This year, let us read the biblical account with fresh eyes, and listen to the tunes of Holy Week with fresh ears. As we journey through these sacred days, may we hear the divine music of grace all around us—and may it move us to embrace, or perhaps even rediscover, the core message of our faith.

(photo of the Atlanta Symphony )

Exploring the Mystery

A Lenten Devotional

27 To them God has chosen to make known among the Gentiles the glorious riches of this mystery, which is Christ in you, the hope of glory. 28 He is the one we proclaim, admonishing and teaching everyone with all wisdom, so that we may present everyone fully mature in Christ. 29 To this end I strenuously contend with all the energy Christ so powerfully works in me.
Colossians 1:27-29

Neil Armstrong, who had firsthand experience exploring the mysteries of the universe, noted, “Mystery creates wonder and wonder is the basis of man’s desire to understand.”

Everyone loves a good mystery. The twists, turns, and the ultimate revelation can be thrilling.

One morning several years ago, I received a call from the popular TV show “Unsolved Mysteries” asking permission to film an episode on our church campus. At first, I thought the call was a hoax, but as I listened to the inquiry, I realized the caller was referring to a mystery involving a member of our community who had disappeared at sea many years ago while serving in the Navy.

Interestingly, when I saw the episode eventually produced by “Unsolved Mysteries” I noted that the program did not solve the mystery, they only explored the mystery.

In Colossians 1:27, Paul probed a different kind of mystery, one that had been hidden for ages but is now being fleshed out in God’s people: “Christ in you, the hope of glory.” This mystery is not an unsolved riddle but an evolving reality of God’s plan to bring life transformation to all through Christ.

As followers of Jesus, why is our relationship with God a mystery? Perhaps it’s a mystery because the mechanics of how faith brings individuals to life cannot be fully explained. It could be considered a mystery because the work of the Spirit is hidden to the naked eye. Or maybe it’s called a mystery because we are a work in progress, still learning, growing, and maturing, and not yet complete.

In Colossians 2:6-7, Paul urges believers to “walk in him, rooted and built up in him and established in the faith.” We are invited to probe this mystery and live out of the wellspring of our relationship with Jesus each day.

A life rooted and grounded in Christ is not easily shaken. Brenning Manning reminds us, “The more rooted we are in the love of God, the more generously we will live out our faith.”

Reflection:

Where do you sense the divine mystery at work in your life? What are some things that inspire you with awe and wonder? What are some steps we can take to become more rooted and grounded in our faith?

Prayer:

We thank you for the incredible mystery that you have chosen to work in us and through us. As we journey through life, may we always be in tune with your Spirit who is shaping us into your likeness. Root us deeply in your truth and unite us in your love. Amen.

Life Is Short: 7 Reasons to Receive Each Day As a Gift

The famous evangelist Billy Graham confessed, “The greatest surprise in life to me is the brevity of life.”

We’ve all heard the phrase, “Life is short.” It’s often said in passing—when we lose someone too soon, when a moment takes our breath away, or when we’re reminded how fast the years fly by. But what if we took that phrase to heart? What if we allowed it to shape the way we think, speak, love, serve, and live?

Here are seven reasons to live each day as a sacred, unrepeatable gift:

1. Time is a non-renewable resource.

Unlike money, time cannot be earned back or saved up. Every sunrise is a once-in-a-lifetime event. Each conversation, each quiet moment, each new opportunity is here now—and may never come again.

2. Today presents opportunities to grow.

Each day brings lessons, challenges, and opportunities for growth. We’re not the same people we were yesterday. Receive today as a gradual and progressive step forward in your becoming—a place where faith can deepen and character can stretch.

3. Lighten the load someone else is carrying.

When we live with compassion and kindness, we become part of someone else’s healing. A smile, a kind gesture, or an encouraging word may seem ordinary to you but can be life-giving to someone else. Phillips Brooks urged, “Be patient and understanding. Life is too short to be vengeful or malicious.”

4. Joy is often hidden in the present.

When we stop chasing “someday” and start noticing “today,” we discover beauty in the now. The warmth of coffee, the sound of laughter, the kindness of a friend—these are the moments that quietly nourish the soul.

5. Gratitude changes our perspective.

When we live with the mindset that each day is a gift, we begin to see more gifts in our days. Gratitude doesn’t change our circumstances—it transforms our perspective. And that shift is powerful.

6. Regret is too heavy to lug around.

The weight of “I wish I had…” can be heavy. But when we live intentionally—speaking our hearts, showing up for others, and taking courageous steps—we reduce the space for regret and make room for peace.

7. Today is the only day you are promised.

Yesterday is gone. Tomorrow isn’t guaranteed. All we truly have is today—this moment, this breath, this chance. Don’t wait for all the stars to align in your favor to start living fully. Begin now.

Annie Dillard reminds us, “How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives.”

Life is short—a sacred breath between dust and eternity. So love deeply, forgive freely, walk humbly, and live each day as a precious gift not to be wasted.

Let’s not just say life is short—let’s live like it.

Keeping Worry in Check

A Lenten Devotional
Luke 10:38-42

38 As Jesus and his disciples were on their way, he came to a village where a woman named Martha opened her home to him. 39 She had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet listening to what he said. 40 But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. She came to him and asked, “Lord, don’t you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!” 41 “Martha, Martha,” the Lord answered, “you are worried and upset about many things, 42 but few things are needed—or indeed only one. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.”  Luke 10:38-42

Worry, if not kept in check, can leave us emotionally drained, spiritually anxious, and even physically unwell. Yet, God calls us to trust him rather than be consumed by worry. For our faith to increase, our tendency to worry must decrease.

Lent is a time for self-reflection. How well do you keep worry in check?

In Luke 10, we see Martha, eager to host Jesus in her home, become overwhelmed with the many details of hospitality. While her intentions were good, her worry and distraction robbed her of the opportunity to be fully present with Jesus. In contrast, Mary chose to sit at the Lord’s feet, listening to His words. When Martha voiced her frustration, Jesus gently reminded her, “You are worried and upset about many things, but few things are needed—or indeed only one. Mary has chosen what is better.”

Worry is not a spiritual virtue; it is a human tendency. We worry about finances, health, relationships, politics, and countless other uncertainties. But what is worry? Worry is an anxious preoccupation with the future, often rooted in fear or doubt. Erma Bombeck famously said, “Worry is like a rocking chair; it gives you something to do but never gets you anywhere.” Worry drains our energy, clouds our judgment, and keeps us from fully trusting God.

Jesus was not dismissing Martha’s responsibilities; He was inviting her to shift her focus. There is a difference between worry and concern. Worry paralyzes us with fear over what might happen. Concern, on the other hand, acknowledges challenges and seeks solutions in faith.

Like Mary, we are called to prioritize the presence of Jesus above our anxieties. When we spend time in His presence—through prayer, Scripture, and worship—our perspective shifts, and our worries lose their grip. As Elizabeth George writes in Breaking the Worry Habit…Forever!, “Worry denies the power of God and produces no good results. Worry adds no value to your life. Eliminate it with God’s help.”

Reflection:
What are the things you tend to worry about the most?How can you replace worry with faith and deepen your trust in God? Have you asked God to help you eliminate your worry habit?

Prayer:
Lord, grant us the peace that surpasses understanding. Teach us to release our worries and rest in your presence. When we are tempted to be anxious, remind us that you are our refuge and strength. Help us, like Mary, to choose what is better—to sit at your feet and trust in your unfailing love. Amen.

Navigating the Maze of Grief

Grief is a maze, both dark and wide,
Winding paths where tears reside.
Shadows linger, doubts appear,
Yet I press on despite the fear.

Through tangled turns and weary days,
A fond remembrance finds its way.
Each memory like a candle glows,
A breeze of love still gently blows.

Though absence aches and seasons change,
The heart still holds what time reclaims.
In laughter, echoes, joys, and pains,
Their presence lingers, love remains.

With gentle steps and quiet grace,
We learn to live, we find our place.
Not rushed, but given time and space,
To heal, to hope, to trust, to face.

And when the road feels long and steep,
May faith sustain, may mercy keep.
For though the night seems void and deep,
Love never fades, nor falls asleep.

(Barry Howard is a retired pastor who serves as a leadership coach and columnist with the Center for Healthy Churches. He and his wife reside on Cove Creek in northeast Alabama.)

Breaking Bad

“My dear children, I write this to you so that you will not sin. But if anybody does sin, we have an advocate with the Father—Jesus Christ, the Righteous One. He is the atoning sacrifice for our sins, and not only for ours but also for the sins of the whole world.” (1 John 2:1-2)

Sin is a universal dilemma. As Romans 3:23 says, “For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” Yet, God’s grace is greater than our sin. However, Martin Luther cautioned, “To be convinced in our hearts that we have forgiveness of sins and peace with God by grace alone is the hardest thing.”

Lent is a time of deep self-reflection, a season to acknowledge our shortcomings and seek forgiveness and renewal through Christ. If we are honest, we all have a sin problem. Sin isn’t just about breaking rules—it’s about breaking a relationship, distancing ourselves from the God who loves us. The Apostle John encourages believers to strive for holiness, but he also reassures us that when we fail, we have an advocate—Jesus Christ.

Jesus is both our defense and our atoning sacrifice. He doesn’t just plead our case; He paid the price for our sin with his own life. His righteousness covers our guilt, and his grace gives us a new beginning. But this grace is not an excuse to remain in sin. John reminds us that if we truly know Jesus, we will aim to follow Jesus—guided by his teaching, emulating his example, and loving others as he loved us.

As we deal with the daily allure of sin, Jerry Bridges encourages us to remember, “Our worst days are never so bad that you are beyond the reach of God’s grace. And your best days are never so good that you are beyond the need of God’s grace.”

Lent challenges us to confront our sin honestly, not with despair, but with hope. Jesus has already solved our sin problem on the cross. Our response is to walk in his ways, abide in his love, and reflect his character to the world.

Reflection:
Where do you find the strength to deal with temptation? How regularly do you confess your sins to God? How can you apply God’s grace to your own shortcomings? What are some ways you can share the good news of God’s forgiveness with others?

Prayer:
Gracious Lord, I confess my sins before You. Thank You for sending Jesus as my advocate and for the grace that covers my failures. Help me to walk in Your ways, to obey Your commands, and to live in a way that reflects Your love. Strengthen me to turn from sin and draw closer to You. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

10 Ways to Care for the Emotional Health of a Congregation During a Pastor Transition

A pastoral transition is one of the most impactful seasons in the life of a church. Whether a pastor retires, resigns, or is called to another ministry, the transition can stir a wide range of emotions—grief, uncertainty, anxiety, excitement, and even division. How church leadership manages this process plays a crucial role in the emotional and spiritual health of the congregation for years to come.

To lead well during this critical time, it’s essential to proactively support the congregation’s emotional needs. Below are ten proven strategies for nurturing a healthy church environment during a pastoral transition.

1. Acknowledge the emotions in the room. Change—even expected change—can feel unsettling. Some church members may feel abandoned, while others may look forward to a new chapter. Create safe spaces for open, honest conversations where members can express their feelings. Validating these emotions helps prevent division and encourages unity.

2. Communicate clearly and consistently. During a pastoral change, transparent communication is vital. Keep the congregation informed about the transition timeline, the pastoral search process, and interim leadership. Regular updates help reduce anxiety and foster trust among members.

3. Honor the departing pastor. If the transition is amicable, take time to celebrate the pastor’s service. Host a farewell service, share personal stories of appreciation, and pray over their next journey. A thoughtful send-off brings closure and lays the groundwork for a smoother transition.

4. Provide strong pastoral care. Pastoral transitions can leave some members feeling spiritually adrift. Church leaders—such as deacons, elders, ministry staff, and interim pastors—should be intentional about providing emotional and spiritual support through encouragement, prayer, and counseling.

5. Reinforce the church’s mission and vision. A church’s identity is rooted in Christ, not a single pastor. Remind the congregation that the church’s mission remains unchanged. Keeping ministries aligned with the church’s vision helps maintain focus and stability during change.

6. Maintain a consistent schedule. Avoid making major changes to worship services or programs during the transition. Familiar rhythms provide stability and comfort. Once a new pastor is in place, there will be time for evaluating and adapting structures and schedules as needed.

7. Promote healing and unity. If the transition follows a difficult season—such as internal conflict or leadership failure—intentional healing is essential. Offer opportunities for reconciliation, reflection, and spiritual renewal. A church that takes time to heal will be more receptive to new leadership.

8. Cultivate a spirit of hope and expectation. Encourage members to view this transition not as a crisis, but as a divine opportunity. A hopeful attitude among leadership will positively influence the congregation. As Romans 8:28 reminds us, “God works in all things to bring about good.”

9. Create opportunities for fellowship and relationship-building. Plan social events, meals, and team-building activities to strengthen relationships during the interim. Laughter, shared meals, and meaningful connection help maintain community and morale.

10. Pray the prayer of “holy indifference.” During the pastoral search, invite the congregation to pray as Jesus did in Matthew 26:39: “Not my will, but your will be done.” A church that earnestly seeks God’s guidance will be spiritually prepared to embrace its next chapter with confidence and joy.

Moving Forward with Faith

A pastor’s departure marks the end of one chapter but also the beginning of another. How a church navigates this transition will shape its emotional and spiritual health for years to come. By prioritizing clear communication, pastoral care, unity, and prayer, a congregation can move forward with faith, trusting that God will guide them as they write the next chapter in their church’s story.

(Barry Howard is a retired pastor and leadership coach with the Center for Healthy Churches, helping congregations and leaders navigate transitions with clarity and care.)

My Strength and My Shield

A Lenten Devotional

“Praise be to the Lord, for he has heard my cry for mercy. The Lord is my strength and my shield; my heart trusts in him, and he helps me. My heart leaps for joy, and with my song I praise him.” 
-Psalm 28:6-7 (NIV)

What do you do when you feel susceptible and weak?

As we journey through Lent, a season of reflection and repentance, we encounter moments when we feel overwhelmed by vulnerability and insecurity. We are reminded of our need for God’s mercy and strength to sustain us. In Psalm 28, David cries out to God for help, and in verses 6-7, his cry turns to praise as he declares, “The Lord is my strength and my shield.”

Philip Yancey notes, “A God wise enough to create me and the world I live in is wise enough to watch out for me.”

During Lent, we are encouraged to confront our human frailty and dependence on God. It is a time to recognize the sin and brokenness in our lives and to seek God’s mercy. Like David, we can cry out to the Lord, trusting that God hears us. When we feel weak, overwhelmed, or vulnerable, we can take heart in knowing that God is not only the source of our strength but also our shield—protecting us in ways we cannot always see.

This season, may we embrace the truth of Psalm 28:7, allowing it to shape our prayers, our thoughts, and our actions. Let us trust in God’s strength and protection, knowing that even in our struggles, we are secure in His hands. And let our gratitude overflow in praise, as we prepare our hearts for the hope and renewal that Easter brings.

Recently while channel surfing, I came across an old episode of the popular sci-fi TV show, Star Trek. In the brief moment as I was watching, as the Starship Enterprise was about to be attacked by the Romulans, I heard Captain Kirk command, “Mr. Sulu, shield’s up!” This was a trademark command for the lieutenant commander to raise the shields, thus cloaking the ship with an invisible protective hull to defend against the attack from the enemy.

In moments when we deal with extraordinary challenges, when we experience elevated anxiety, when we confront adversarial forces, or when we are physically tired or emotionally spent, we should say to ourselves, “Shield’s up!” as we remind ourselves of the Lord’s strength and protection in all circumstances.

Reflection:
How can you trust in God’s strength and shield during this season of Lent? What causes you to feel vulnerable? In what areas of your life are you seeking to grow in grace and mercy? Rest in the truth that God hears you and will help you.

Prayer:
Lord, in this season of Lent, help me to trust you more deeply. When I feel weak, remind me that you provide sufficient energy for the challenges of life. When I feel vulnerable, remind me that you are my shield in all seasons. Amen.

(Barry Howard is a retired pastor who served as a leadership coach and columnist with the Center for Healthy Churches.)

(This was first published as part of Living Lent, a devotional book published by Morningstar Child and Family Services.)

Bruised But Not Broken: Clinging to Hope Through Tough Times

Life brings its share of losses—some expected, others blindsiding. But when hope fades, everything else can unravel. Without hope, even the strongest faith can feel as stagnant as swamp water.

During difficult seasons, hope is the energy source that fuels perseverance and ignites determination. Theologian Emil Brunner captured this truth well: “What oxygen is to the lungs, such is hope to the meaning of life.” Without it, we suffocate in despair.

Micah, a prophet called to speak during one of Israel’s darkest times, refused to let despair take hold. Surrounded by corruption, injustice, and looming disaster, Micah declared:

“But as for me, I watch in hope for the LORD, I wait for God my Savior; my God will hear me.” (Micah 7:7)

More than 2,500 years later, our hope in Christ remains our most reliable source for spiritual strength and courage. No matter how uncertain the circumstances, we work for positive change, we advocate for the underserved and underprivileged, and we lean into the promise that “with God all things are possible.” (Matthew 19:26)

Hope Is Not Naive

We live in an era saturated with gloom and pessimism. Division and discontent dominate the national conversation. And perhaps most troubling, this sense of despair has seeped into the church—a place meant to be a beacon of hope.

If the church, called to be the light of the world and the salt of the earth (Matthew 5:13), surrenders to hopelessness, we risk rushing toward an apocalyptic future of our own making.

But real hope—the kind we see in Micah—is neither blind nor naive. It does not ignore reality. Instead, true hope compels us to rise above despair, face challenges with faith, and respond with wisdom and action.

The Arrogance of Despair

Years ago, pastor John Claypool had a sobering conversation with an elderly rabbi, a friend and fellow advocate in the civil rights movement. After a particularly frustrating meeting, Claypool sighed, “I think it’s hopeless. The problem is too deep, too complex. There’s simply no way out.”

The rabbi paused and then said something profound:

“Humanly speaking, despair is presumptuous. It assumes we know the future, but we don’t. Think of the times you thought something was hopeless, only to be surprised when unseen forces shifted everything. If God can create something out of nothing, if He can bring life from death, who are we to place limits on what He can do?”

That wisdom still speaks today. We do not have the luxury of declaring a situation hopeless because we are not the authors of the story.

The Rekindling of Hope

In the movie Hope Floats, the main character, Birdee Pruitt, describes hope this way:

“Beginnings are scary. Endings are usually sad. But it’s the middle that counts the most. Just give hope a chance to float up.”

Even when you think you’ve lost it, hope can emerge after a season of dormancy. Like stirring warm embers to rekindle a fire, real hope can be revived. It is nurtured when we commit to “act justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with our God” (Micah 6:8)—even when the path is difficult, even when we can’t yet see the way forward.

Hope is not an emotion. It’s a decision. And when we choose hope, we align ourselves with the God who makes the impossible possible.

(Barry Howard is a retired pastor who currently serves as a leadership coach and consultant with the Center for Healthy Churches.)

Before You Cross the Finish Line

The first time I heard this oft-told story, it was shared by Wayne Grubbs, then pastor at Lakeview Baptist Church in Oxford, Alabama. The story goes something like this:

Near the end of a sermon about heaven, the pastor asked the congregation, “How many of you want to go to heaven?” Every hand in the church shot up—except for one little boy on the front row. Curious, the pastor turned to him and asked, “Son, don’t you want to go to heaven?” The boy quickly responded, “Yes sir! When I die. But I thought you were gettin’ up a trip right now.”

A few of us may feel like we’re getting ready for that final journey sooner rather than later, but most of us live under the illusion that the finish line is far in the distance. Although none of us knows when our journey will be complete, we are inspired by Paul’s words, “I have fought a good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith (II Timothy 4:7).

Regardless of our age or stage in life, the truth remains: we must be ready to cross that line—by maximizing our time here and finishing well.

What Do You Need to Do Before You Finish the Race?

I recently celebrated my 65th birthday. During the two weeks following, I had the sacred privilege of delivering the eulogy for 3 dear friends who had crossed the finish line just a few days apart. The strange juxtaposition of these two events—a birthday and a series of funerals—prompted deep reflection:

“What does God want to accomplish in and through my life before I cross the finish line?”

Thomas Jefferson wisely advised, “Never put off till tomorrow what you can do today.” Yet, so often, we let good intentions replace real action. If you knew your time was short, what would you make a priority? What do you need to do before you finish your race?

1. Go where you need to go. Visit the friend or family member you keep meaning to see. Take that family vacation. Sign up for that mission trip. Step out of your comfort zone and embrace a new experience.

2. Do what needs to be done. Get to know your neighbors and build community. Volunteer for that service project you’ve been considering. Share your faith intentionally and non-judgmentally.

3. Say what needs to be said. Tell your family how much you love them. Plant that tree that will bear fruit and offer shade after you are gone. Pass down the stories that hold your legacy. Offer forgiveness where wounds remain unhealed.

4. Give what needs to be given. Honor God with your financial resources, supporting your local church and kingdom work. Pass along that cherished heirloom to the next generation. Invest in a cause that will continue making a difference long after you’re gone.

5. Plan what needs to be planned. Get your affairs in order: wills, life insurance, power of attorney, and advanced directives. Communicate your memorial wishes with loved ones. Leave behind not just memories, but a roadmap for those who will carry on.

Live Today with Finish Line in Mind

James 4:14 reminds us that “life is a vapor that appears for a little time and then vanishes away.” In the grand scheme of eternity, our days are fleeting and unpredictable. The best way to prepare for the end is to live each day with intention—treasuring relationships, embracing opportunities, and deepening our faith.

For me, that means not only trusting Jesus as my Savior but also following Jesus daily in my attitudes and actions—serving, growing, and faithfully running the race set before me.

Mother Teresa reminded us, “At the end of life we will not be judged by how many diplomas we have received, how much money we have made, how many great things we have done. We will be judged by ‘I was hungry, and you gave me something to eat, I was naked and you clothed me. I was homeless, and you took me in.’”

I sure hope to celebrate several more birthdays, but I also know that one day, sooner or later, someone will stand and share a eulogy for me. Since I don’t know when that day will come, I want to make every moment count.

Like Irma Bombeck avowed, “When I stand before God at the end of my life, I would hope that I would not have a single bit of talent left, and could say, ‘I used everything you gave me.’”

(Barry Howard is a retired pastor who serves as a leadership coach and consultant with the Center for Healthy Churches.)