Life is so fragile. We make all these plans. We have all these expectations and goals and dreams. We say things like, "Maybe in 10 years I'll do [this or that]."
We hope for success. We grieve failure. We worry. We think we have it all when our interest rate is good, our cars are paid off, and our portfolio is gaining. We breathe a sigh of relief when our kids get good grades, our family holiday gatherings are drama-free, and our annual performance review comes in above-average.
All of this is as sure as our next breath. Can you guarantee that the next time your medulla oblongata tells your lungs to expand they'll do what they're told? And if they do, can you guarantee that fresh, life-giving air will fill them? No. None of us can.
If all we have to hope for is what stares us in the face every day -- our home, our job, our spouse, our friends, our family, our sense of self-worth -- we are [and I really want to cuss here but I won't]... screwed. If this life is all there is, our story is always a tragedy. Death wins.
Thank God our hope is not here. Thank God our hope is not in our next breath. Thank God death does not win. Out of love for us and a desire to bring glory to his Father, Jesus Christ conquered death once and for all, transforming our lives from a series of meaningless inhales and exhales into an eternal gift. Our hope rests in that transformation, in that grace, in that free offer of true, redeemed, everlasting life in the kingdom of God. There is absolutely nothing -- no accomplishment, no failure, no decision, no tragedy, nothing -- that can change this gift of God on which our hope securely stands. Love wins.