Most of us learned the bedtime prayer long before we understood its meaning:

“Now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray the Lord my soul to keep.
If I should die before I wake,
I pray the Lord my soul to take.”

As children, we prayed those words without fear. As adults, they sound a little more sobering. That simple prayer confronts a reality we spend much of our lives trying to avoid — the fact that life is fragile, and death is certain.

The anonymous writer of Hebrews put it bluntly: “Just as people are destined to die once, and after that to face judgment” (Hebrews 9:27).

Facing our mortality is not morbid; it’s clarifying. As the philosopher Socrates once said, “The unexamined life is not worth living.” Facing death honestly helps us live more intentionally, more gratefully, and more faithfully.

Here are 10 reflections on mortality to help us live with hope and die with peace.

1. Life is a gift that should never be taken for granted. James 4:14 reminds us that life is “a vapor that appears for a little while and then vanishes.” Every sunrise is a gift, every breath a miracle.

Holocaust survivor Viktor Frankl observed that the difference between those who survived the concentration camps and those who didn’t was often the ability to find meaning, even in suffering. “When we are no longer able to change a situation,” he wrote, “we are challenged to change ourselves.”

Gratitude transforms survival into living. Don’t take the ordinary for granted; it’s where the extraordinary hides.

2. Death Is a certainty we should not fear. Emily Dickinson penned, “Because I could not stop for Death — He kindly stopped for me.” Her calm acceptance captures a truth many of us resist: death is inevitable, but not necessarily tragic.

The older I get, the less I fear death itself, and yet the more I want to avoid a prolonged dying process. While we don’t get to choose the way we depart this world, I often tell my wife, “If I don’t wake up tomorrow morning, I’ve had a good life. And you can say, ‘Thank you, Lord. That’s the way he wanted to go.’”

For followers of Christ, death is not the end of the story. As Paul wrote, “To live is Christ and to die is gain” (Philippians 1:21). Our hope isn’t in escaping death, but in trusting the One who conquered it.

3. The ultimate mortality rate Is 100%. Every generation learns the same lesson: no one gets out of this life alive. But that doesn’t have to sound grim. It can actually sharpen our focus.

Benjamin Franklin once quipped, “In this world nothing can be said to be certain, except death and taxes.” But even Franklin understood that certainty can bring clarity. Living with the end in mind helps us prioritize what truly matters.

4. You write your own eulogy each day that you live. Every decision, every conversation, every act of kindness or cruelty writes another line in your story. The question is — what will your story say?

The tombstone’s “dash” between birth and death represents your life. What fills that dash? Maya Angelou wrote, “People will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but they will never forget how you made them feel.”

When you reach the end of your days, may people remember that your words healed, your presence mattered, and your faith endured.

5. Focus on things of eternal significance. Buford Green, a wise friend of mine, once said, “I’ve never seen a hearse pulling a U-Haul.” You can’t take it with you. But you can leave something behind—faith, love, integrity, and kindness.

Jesus taught us not to store up treasures on earth, but in heaven. Eternal investments look like compassion for the poor, forgiveness for the wounded, and service for the overlooked. The things that outlive us are usually the things we did for others.

6. The best way to prepare for death is to live every day to the maximum. The Latin phrase carpe diem—“seize the day”—was first written by the poet Horace more than 2,000 years ago. It still holds wisdom.

In our era of constant distraction, we can spend hours scrolling, comparing, and worrying. But as author Annie Dillard observed, “How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives.”

Live fully present. Watch a sunrise. Call your mother. Forgive someone. Laugh often. Reggie McNeal once said, “The enemy of your soul whispers fear and worry all the time, and if you listen to that roar, you’ll never hear the Spirit speak.” Tune out the noise and tune in to the sacred.

7. Prepare for death spiritually and logistically. As Jesus said, “Love the Lord with all your heart, mind, and soul, and love your neighbor as your self.” Confess your sins regularly and receive God’s gift of forgiveness. But also make the practical plans. Writing a will, organizing your affairs, or discussing end-of-life wishes with family members isn’t pessimism—it’s love in practical form.

Years ago, a parishioner told me, “I don’t want my kids to have to guess about my funeral. I want them to be free to grieve, not to argue.” Her preparation became one of the greatest gifts she left beh

8. Live with a sense of mission and purpose. In other words, serve God by serving others, especially the disadvantaged and underserved. And live so that there’s no doubt about what you believe or who you follow. Dietrich Bonhoeffer, who faced death in a Nazi prison, said before his execution, “This is the end—for me, the beginning of life.”

Build your life around Christ’s teachings and compassion. The best way to prepare to die is to live each day as a gift to God and to others

9. Wake up before you die. The late preacher Tony Campolo told of a Buddhist monk who once said, “You Christians teach your children to pray all wrong. You teach them to say, ‘If I should die before I wake.’ It would be better if you taught them to pray, ‘If I should wake before I die.’”

Campolo explained that many people go through life half-awake—distracted, numb, and unaware of the sacred all around them. The tragedy isn’t dying before you wake up—it’s never waking up while you’re alive.

Take time to wake up to God’s love, to beauty, to laughter, to grace.

10. Let death catch you from behind, living generously and faithfully. You can’t control the timing of your death, but you can control the quality of your life. Live so that death finds you authentic in faith, generous in spirit, and awake to God’s presence.

Don’t sit around dreading death, or awaiting its arrival drearily. Whatever your limitations, live with a grateful heart and a positive spirit.

When I was a teenager, I once spent the night in a casket. A friend invited me to go camping behind his house. However, a storm rolled in unexpectedly. His stepfather worked in a funeral home and had shipping caskets in the storage barn. So when the rain began, we moved our campout to the barn and converted two of the shipping containers to beds. It was eerie but unforgettable. I agreed to this arrangement under one condition: That we leave the lids open. 

There will come a day when the casket lid will close on my life. But until then, I want to make every day count. As the writer of Romans reminds us, “Whether we live or die, we belong to the Lord” (Romans 14:8).

Someone once asked, “How do you know if God’s purpose with your life is complete?” The answer is, “If you have breath, God is not finished with you.”

We prayed the old bedtime prayer as children, but maybe, just maybe, we should also pray this prayer as adults:

“If I should die before I wake,
I pray the Lord my soul to take.
But if I should wake before I die,
I pray the Lord to teach me how to live.”

Life is short. Death is certain. As long as we have a pulse, may God give us the grace to be fully alive.

Some days start fine and end hard. Other days seem tough from the first cup of coffee. Whether it’s the loss of a loved one, a financial setback, a work crisis, or just an accumulation of small frustrations, we all have days when our spirits feel heavy and our energy runs low. Those are the moments when we most need perspective, patience, and grace.

Here are 10 things to remember when you’re having a tough day—truths that can anchor your spirit when everything else feels uncertain:

1. This day will not last forever. When life feels like it’s closing in, it helps to remember that tough days don’t last forever. As Psalm 30:5 promises, “Weeping may last through the night, but joy comes with the morning.”

In the middle of a storm, it’s easy to believe the clouds are permanent. But even the longest storm eventually gives way to light. When you’re in a dark season, hold on to hope—it’s the bridge that carries you to the other side.

Albert Camus discovered, “In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer.”

2. You are not alone. When we struggle, isolation often follows. But even when you feel alone, God is near. God hasn’t gone silent; God does however invite us to lean in closer.

Sometimes comfort comes from others, such as a text from a friend, a prayer from a pastor, or a quiet reminder that you matter. Don’t hesitate to reach out. Connection can be holy medicine.

During the early months of the recent pandemic, when many people were struggling in solitude, I remember a church member saying, “I can’t fix everything that’s broken, but I can still pick up the phone.” That one call, that one connection, can change someone’s entire outlook.

3. You don’t have to have it all together all the time. There’s a lot of pressure to appear strong, capable, and composed. But pretending you are fine when you are not is exhausting.

As author Brené Brown reminds us, “Vulnerability is not weakness; it’s our greatest measure of courage.” God never asked us to be flawless—however, God does call us to be faithful. Even the Apostle Paul admitted, “When I am weak, then I am strong” (2 Corinthians 12:10).

4. Take one day at a time, one step at a time, and one issue at a time. When life feels overwhelming, break it down. You don’t have to solve everything today—take the next right step.

Think of marathon runners. They don’t conquer 26 miles all at once. They take it stride by stride, breath by breath. The same is true in life: progress comes through small, steady steps.

Lao Tzu surmised, “The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.”

5. Practice the pause. Even Jesus often withdrew to quiet places to pray (Luke 5:16). If he needed moments of rest and renewal, so do we.

A few deep breaths and a simple prayer, like “Lord, give me peace for this moment,” can steady your soul. Step outside, feel the sunlight, listen to the rhythm of creation. Sometimes that pause is not a break from real life; it’s the moment that helps you remember what’s real.

6. Gratitude changes perspective and clarifies our focus. Gratitude doesn’t erase hardship, but it transforms how we see it. When you start naming blessings, even small ones—a sunrise, a child’s laughter, a quiet cup of coffee—you begin to notice that goodness still surrounds you.

A Harvard study found that people who kept gratitude journals were happier and more resilient. Long before that, Scripture reminded us, “Give thanks in all circumstances” (1 Thessalonians 5:18). Gratitude doesn’t ignore pain—it redeems it.

7. It’s okay to ask for help. You’re not designed to carry everything alone. Seeking help from a counselor, a mentor, or a trusted friend is not weakness but wisdom.

During one of my toughest seasons in ministry, a friend reminded me, “Even shepherds need shepherding.” She was right. Asking for help is not a sign of failure; it’s a step toward healing.

There’s an old African proverb that advises, “If you want to go fast, go alone. If you want to go far, go together.”

8. Remind yourself of what is true, and not just how you feel in the moment.  Feelings are powerful, but they aren’t always accurate. When the noise of fear or disappointment gets loud, anchor yourself in what you know is true: God loves you, your life has purpose, and this struggle will not define you.

A wise therapist told me, “Your emotions are real, but you have to let them know they’re not the boss.” Let faith be the compass that steadies you when feelings fluctuate

9. Rest Is sacred. Fatigue makes small problems look like giants. God built rest into creation not as a luxury, but as a rhythm of grace. Sometimes the most spiritual thing you can do is take a nap, eat something healthy, or get outside.

Even Jesus took time to sleep in the middle of a storm (Mark 4:38). Rest is not giving up—it’s gearing up.

10. God is at work in seen and unseen ways. When life is chaotic, it’s hard to see God’s hand. But faith reminds us that even when we can’t trace God’s plan, we can trust God’s heart.

Romans 8:28 assures us that God works in all things for good—not that all things are good, but that God can bring good out of even the hardest experiences. Like a tapestry, the threads don’t make sense up close, but step back and you see the design.

Back in his day, Charles Spurgeon famously preached, “God is too wise to be mistaken, and too good to be unkind.”

Bad days happen. But they don’t have the final word. Every tough day offers a chance to rediscover grace, lean into faith, and grow in resilience.

So if today feels heavy, hang tough! Your story is not yet complete. And whether you have been bruised by the unfairness of life, stung by the cruelty of others, or wounded by self-inflicted mistakes, you can write a better chapter tomorrow than the one you are living today.

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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.”

Take a deeper dive… Where do you sense the mystery of Christ at work in your life? 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 are at 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.

(This first appeared in “Reflections Daily Devotional Guide.)

In a world that praises hustle and rewards burnout, Jesus offers something profoundly countercultural: rest. Not the kind of rest you squeeze in between meetings or tack onto the end of an overbooked week, but real rest—the kind that restores the soul, quiets the mind, and invites us back into wholeness.

In Matthew 11:28–30 (The Message), Jesus extends an invitation: “Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me… Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace.”

These words, so aptly paraphrased by Eugene Peterson, feel less like a command and more like a gentle hand on the shoulder, drawing us toward something better than exhaustion: grace.

Learning to Rest Is a Strength, Not a Weakness

In her book Invitation to Silence and Solitude, Ruth Haley Barton writes, “Because we do not rest, we lose our way… Poisoned by the hypnotic belief that good things come only through unceasing determination and tireless effort, we can never truly rest.”

It’s easy to assume that if we stop, we’ll fall behind. But Jesus flips the script—he teaches that rest is not an interruption to spiritual formation; it is spiritual formation. It’s how we learn to hear his voice above the noise.

A Gentle Yoke in a Demanding World

Jesus invites us to “take his yoke”—a farming tool once used to link animals for shared work. But his yoke isn’t burdensome. It’s custom-fit, gentle, and shared. We don’t pull alone. We’re yoked with Christ, walking in step with his grace.

Years ago, I met a retired pastor who had served faithfully for five decades. When I asked him his secret to longevity, he said simply, “I finally learned to walk at God’s pace.” That’s what Jesus means by unforced rhythms—it’s grace that moves in time with heaven, not the chaos of the calendar.

Grace for the Weary and Wounded

In times of loss, confusion, or fatigue, grace meets us quietly and consistently. It is:

• An antidote for anxiety
• A remedy for restlessness
• Decompression for depression
• Antivenom for sin

Grace is what saves us when we can’t save ourselves. It guides when we’re lost, comforts when we’re hurting, and encourages when the odds are stacked against us. It even carries us when we don’t know the way forward.

How Do We Learn These Rhythms?

• Come to Jesus—not just once, but daily
• Take his yoke—release the burdens you were never meant to carry alone
• Learn from him—observe his gentleness, humility, and wisdom
• Rest in him—receive the peace that only grace can give

This isn’t just self-care. It’s soul care. It’s a way of life Jesus modeled—and a way of life he still invites us to follow.

John Mark Comer reminds us, “Transformation is possible if we are willing to arrange our lives around the practices, rhythms, and truths that Jesus himself did, which will open our lives to God’s power to change.”

So today, let grace interrupt your hurry.
Let grace reframe your expectations.
Let grace teach you how to breathe again.

Because in Christ, we’re not called to hustle harder—we’re called to finish the race at the speed of grace.

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

(This post is a summary of a sermon I shared in 2023.)

Where is God when bad things happen?

Across the ages, this question has perplexed and haunted those weighed down by grief, suffering, and pain. Theologians and philosophers have wrestled with scripture and reason in search of understanding. Pastors and counselors still search for words that offer hope to hearts broken by tragedy.

The Bible doesn’t sugarcoat the harshness of life. In Psalm 13:1–2, the psalmist gives voice to what it feels like to be forsaken in moments of anguish:

How long, Lord? Will you forget me forever?
How long will you hide your face from me?
How long must I wrestle with my thoughts
and day after day have sorrow in my heart?
How long will my enemy triumph over me?

Chaos wears many faces. A hurricane flattens homes and lives. An earthquake strikes without warning. A disease creeps in uninvited. A drunk driver kills an innocent teenager. And every time, the question echoes again: Where is God in this?

Some respond with platitudes. But trite clichés often feel hollow—or even offensive—to those walking through the valley of sorrow. Answering this question too casually can seem dismissive. But ignoring it would leave too many stranded in silence.

So I won’t pretend to offer a one-size-fits-all answer. Instead, I’ll share what I’ve come to believe—hoping that even a flicker of light might help someone see more clearly in a dark place.

1. Life is not fair.

I used to believe that if I prayed, obeyed, and lived faithfully, God would shield me from life’s storms. But life doesn’t follow that formula. God is good, yes—but God never promised that life would be fair. Life is hard. And faith isn’t an escape hatch—it’s an anchor.

As beloved author Frederick Buechner suggested, “Here is the world. Beautiful and terrible things will happen. Don’t be afraid.”

Faith helps us face the beautiful and the terrible with courage.

2. Suffering does not discriminate.

No one is immune. Tornadoes don’t skip homes based on church attendance. Illness doesn’t scan for spiritual résumés. We live in a world still scarred by sin, and its consequences touch the just and the unjust alike. Faith doesn’t exempt us—it equips us.

3. God is present in the chaos.

God does not orchestrate suffering as punishment or test. God is not the author of chaos, but the Redeemer within it. The Holy Spirit—God’s presence—lives within us to comfort, convict, and guide. God also shows up through the Church—when we bring love, healing, and hope to others.

Holocaust survivor and psychiatrist Viktor Frankl observed, “When we are no longer able to change a situation, we are challenged to change ourselves.”

Faith doesn’t always change our circumstances—but it transforms our response.

4. God invites us to walk by faith, not by sight.

Why do bad things happen to good people? Why are some healed and others not? Why did Jesus raise Lazarus, but not everyone? Maybe those moments of healing are glimpses—previews—of what God will one day do fully and finally. Even Lazarus died again. Earthly healing is temporary. Eternal hope is permanent.

I still believe in prayer. I believe in hope, medicine, community, and grace. But there are no formulas—only an invitation to walk by faith with courage and perseverance.

5. God is at work, but not always in ways we can see or evaluate.

Romans 8:28 assures us, “In all things God works for the good of those who love him.”

God doesn’t cause all things—but God works within all things. Often, God works through us. We are Christ’s hands and feet in a hurting world. When we show up with compassion, we reflect the God who never leaves us.

So, where is God when the bad stuff happens?

God is present. Not with easy answers or magical fixes—but with sustaining grace, resilient hope, and a faithful presence that never lets go.

Especially in the seasons when I wrestle with the unknowns, I hold to the promise that God is here. And even the smallest glimpse of God’s presence encourages me to keep pressing on.

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

(This column is taken from a message I shared at FBC Pensacola after the community experienced multiple hurricanes, a catastrophic oil spill, and more than a few unexpected deaths.)