When you’re young, with your whole life ahead of you, time seems endless. Big life events like going to college, establishing a career, getting married, having kids, raising teenagers, climbing the corporate ladder, preparing for retirement, and looking into nursing homes seem like an eternity away. So as an adolescent, with nothing but time at your disposal, it’s easy to live in the now, having little concern for the future.
But then comes the day when you notice that first gray hair, the extra wrinkle around your smile, and the appearance of crow’s feet around your eyes. Your muscles begin to ache, your metabolism slows down, and you start to forget details that your younger self never would. And that’s when it hits you.
You’re old. It seems like just yesterday that nothing sagged, your memory was sharp, and you had all the time in the world. But overnight, in just a blink of an eye, you became a part of the older generation, and time doesn’t feel so endless and infinite. Rather, it feels starkly brief, fleeting, and in low supply.
Which is why Solomon wrote, “Don’t let the excitement of youth cause you to forget your Creator. Remember Him before the door to life’s opportunities is closed, before you become fearful of falling, before your hairs turns white, and you drag along without energy.”
Because, truth be told, we don’t have all the time in the world. No one knows if we’ll live another decade or just another day, but if our time runs out tomorrow, we won’t want to be standing before our Maker with any regrets. We either knew Him or we didn’t, so why waste any more time pushing off faith, Jesus, or praying for another day? This is it. We aren’t promised tomorrow, but we have today. What are we going to do with it?
Reflect:
1. When you look ahead toward your future, what still seems like an eternity away?
2. Let’s echo the prayer written in Psalm 39 as our own today: “Lord, remind me how brief my time on earth will be. Remind me that my days are numbered—how fleeting my life is. You have made my life no longer than the width of my hand. My entire lifetime is just a moment to you; at best, each of us is but a breath. And so, Lord, where do I put my hope? My only hope is in you.” (v. 4-5, 7)
Ecclesiastes 12:1-7
1 Don’t let the excitement of youth cause you to forget your Creator. Honor him in your youth before you grow old and say, “Life is not pleasant anymore.” 2 Remember him before the light of the sun, moon, and stars is dim to your old eyes, and rain clouds continually darken your sky. 3 Remember him before your legs—the guards of your house—start to tremble; and before your shoulders—the strong men—stoop. Remember him before your teeth—your few remaining servants—stop grinding; and before your eyes—the women looking through the windows—see dimly.
4 Remember him before the door to life’s opportunities is closed and the sound of work fades. Now you rise at the first chirping of the birds, but then all their sounds will grow faint.
5 Remember him before you become fearful of falling and worry about danger in the streets; before your hair turns white like an almond tree in bloom, and you drag along without energy like a dying grasshopper, and the caperberry no longer inspires sexual desire. Remember him before you near the grave, your everlasting home, when the mourners will weep at your funeral.
6 Yes, remember your Creator now while you are young, before the silver cord of life snaps and the golden bowl is broken. Don’t wait until the water jar is smashed at the spring and the pulley is broken at the well. 7 For then the dust will return to the earth, and the spirit will return to God who gave it.
