There are moments in life that permanently change the way you see everything.
For me, one of those moments came in September 2005 when I lost my father to stomach cancer.
Watching someone you love slowly fade from this world has a way of stripping away the illusion that life on earth is permanent. The things we spend so much time worrying about suddenly don’t seem as important anymore. Arguments lose their weight. Material things lose their shine. The temporary nature of life becomes painfully clear.
And yet, in the middle of grief, something deeper began to settle into my heart:
Heaven became more real to me than ever before.
Not as a vague idea.
Not as a comforting phrase people say at funerals.
But as a living hope.
But something else also began to reshape my perspective in the years that followed.
In 2006, not long after losing my father, I met the woman who would become my wife. We were married in 2007, and through our marriage God has blessed us with three beautiful children—one son and two daughters.
Becoming a husband and a father changed me in ways I never expected.
Before marriage and children, it’s easy to live mostly focused on yourself—your goals, your ambitions, your own plans, your own comfort. But having a family to love, lead, provide for, and care for has a way of transforming your priorities.
Has it been challenging at times? Absolutely.
Marriage requires sacrifice.
Parenting requires patience.
Leading a family requires humility.
But through those challenges has also come incredible blessing.
Raising children has given me a deeper understanding of God’s love, patience, and grace. It has shifted my focus away from constantly thinking about myself and toward something much greater: raising my children in a way that honors God and loving my wife the way Scripture teaches us to love our spouse.
Ephesians 5 tells husbands to love their wives sacrificially, and honestly, that kind of love goes completely against the self-centered mindset our culture often promotes. Real love requires dying to selfishness daily.
And in many ways, I think that’s part of what living with eternity in mind actually looks like.
It’s not just about thinking about heaven someday.
It’s about allowing eternal priorities to shape how we live today.
The older I get, the more I realize how easy it is to become consumed by temporary things. We worry about bills, status, success, opinions, politics, social media, appearance, achievements, and countless distractions that constantly compete for our attention. Our culture trains us to live as though this world is all there is.
But Scripture continually reminds us otherwise.
Paul writes in Colossians 3:2:
“Set your affection on things above, not on things on the earth.”
That verse hits differently when you’ve experienced both loss and blessing.
Because both have a way of teaching you what truly matters.
Losing my father reminded me how temporary life is.
Building a family reminded me how meaningful life can be when centered on love, faith, and purpose.
One hundred years from now, the things consuming most of our energy today likely won’t matter at all.
Eternity will.
I think one of the greatest struggles many of us face is that we know about heaven intellectually, but we don’t truly live with eternity in mind. We say heaven is real, but often our lives are built entirely around temporary pursuits.
Jesus said in Matthew 6:19–20:
“Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth… But lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven.”
That raises an important question:
What are we really investing our lives into?
Because one day, every earthly title, possession, and achievement will be left behind. The only things that last forever are the things connected to God and people.
Our faith.
Our obedience.
Our love for others.
The souls we impact.
The quiet moments nobody else sees.
The prayers whispered in private.
The acts of kindness done when nobody applauds.
Those things matter eternally.
One of the things that has challenged me recently is realizing how easily comfort can lull us spiritually asleep. We become so attached to this world that we forget we were never meant to treat earth as our final home.
The Bible calls believers “strangers and pilgrims” on the earth.
This world is temporary.
Heaven is eternal.
That doesn’t mean we neglect our responsibilities or stop enjoying life. God gives us blessings to enjoy. But it does mean we hold this life with open hands instead of clenched fists.
It means we stop building our identity around things that can disappear overnight.
Because life can change fast.
A phone call.
A diagnosis.
A tragedy.
A funeral.
Suddenly the things we thought mattered most don’t seem nearly as important anymore.
I’ve seen people spend their entire lives chasing success yet remain empty inside. I’ve seen others walk through incredible suffering while carrying a peace that makes no earthly sense.
The difference is often perspective.
When your hope is anchored only to this world, everything feels fragile because it is. But when your hope is anchored in Christ and eternity, even death loses its finality.
That’s why Paul could say in 2 Corinthians 4:18:
“For the things which are seen are temporary, but the things which are not seen are eternal.”
What a powerful reminder.
Everything we physically see around us is temporary.
The pain.
The stress.
The disappointments.
The aging process.
Even death itself.
Temporary.
As believers, we are not just living for the next weekend, paycheck, vacation, or accomplishment. We are living for eternity.
And honestly, I think many of us—including myself at times—need to pause and ask:
Have I become too attached to temporary things?
Am I spending more time building earthly treasure than eternal treasure?
Am I living like heaven is real?
Because if heaven truly is real—and I believe with all my heart that it is—then it should affect how we live now.
It should change how we love people.
How we forgive.
How we handle suffering.
How we spend our time.
How we treat others.
How we prioritize our lives.
My wife and children have reminded me that some of the most meaningful things we will ever do may never be applauded publicly. Sometimes eternal impact looks like simply loving your family well, praying over your children, staying faithful through difficult seasons, and choosing God daily in the ordinary moments of life.
One day, every single one of us will step into eternity.
And when that day comes, I don’t believe we’ll regret loving too much, praying too much, trusting God too much, or investing too much into what truly matters.
I think we’ll regret the opposite.
My prayer lately has been simple:
“Lord, help me not get so distracted by temporary things that I lose sight of eternity.”
Maybe that’s a prayer more of us need to pray.
Because this world is not our final home.
And for those who belong to Christ, the best is still ahead.
