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Perspective is so hard to come by when you’re walking through a trial. Sickness, sin, and all kinds of misery can seem eternal, and heaven can become microscopic in our heart and imagination. In my last sermon from James 1, I was very moved by our confidence that “various trials” should be counted as “all joy” because of what they are producing in us: endurance.

I have been thinking about death lately. Not morbidly. I know death is a conquered foe. But it is still an inevitable reality. And the Bible says that there is something about “numbering our days” that produces wisdom (Ps 90:12). What is the wisdom of remembering our own mortality?

I’m making my way through Ecclesiastes recently in my devotions. It reads like a lament: a man with “eternity in his heart” grieving the fleeting nature of life in this world. How can things matter when nothing lasts?