Does Your Life Make Sense in Light of Eternity?

After a year of marriage, my wife Anne and I sold nearly all our possessions and moved overseas with a vision burning in our hearts: to pursue the completion of the Great Commission in our lifetime. That was eight years ago. We were young, zealous, and convinced that Jesus was worthy of our lives, our plans, and our comforts.

But that didn’t mean it was easy.

Those first few years overseas were some of the most physically and emotionally challenging of our lives. We wrestled with culture shock, persistent sickness, anxiety, depression, and at times, hopelessness. I remember one instance vividly: I was so sick from fever, diarrhea, and heat exhaustion that I literally fell off a toilet onto the floor. Not exactly the romanticized vision of overseas missions that many picture.

 

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Yet, despite the messiness and hardship, everything somehow still made sense. Why? Because we were confident in God’s calling. We believed that Jesus had risen from the dead, that His Gospel was worth our lives, and that the people we lived among deserved to hear of His grace. Through all the discomfort, we clung to a hope that transcended our circumstances.

A few years later, we welcomed our first child into the world. Our calling hadn’t changed—but the way we carried it certainly did. Now we faced the weighty responsibility of not only obeying God’s call but also protecting and providing for a young family. At first, the concern was mostly physical—clean water, food, and safety from illness or unrest. We battled through sicknesses, endured the stress of a political uprising, and weathered the isolating lockdowns of COVID-19. But the burden that grew heavier over time wasn’t physical—it was emotional.

As our kids grew older, I realized just how much our calling cost them, too.

Our most difficult transition came recently when we relaunched overseas after a few months back in the U.S. For the first time, my daughter could truly grasp the cost. What used to be a childlike trust—“wherever Mom and Dad are is home”—began to shift into a deep sense of loss. She understood now what it meant to leave grandparents, cousins, friends, and familiarity. She knew what it meant to start over—again. Watching her process her sadness broke something inside me.

One day, I watched tears well up in her eyes, and I couldn’t hold mine back either. I wept with her. And, in that moment, I began to question everything.

“God, this feels unfair. This doesn’t make sense,” I cried out internally in prayer. It wasn’t the first time I’d voiced such doubts, and if I’m honest, it probably won’t be the last. But our heavenly Father is patient. He welcomes our honesty. And often, He responds with the exact truth we need—truth that realigns our hearts.

In that moment, He brought to mind 1 Corinthians 15. Paul writes to the church in Corinth to correct their misunderstandings about the resurrection – both Christ’s and ours. Halfway through his argument, Paul makes a bold and sobering claim:

“If we have put our hope in Christ for this life only, we should be pitied more than anyone.”
—1 Corinthians 15:19 (CSB)

Those words hit me like a wave. It was as if God gently whispered, “You’re right; none of this makes sense… unless I really rose from the grave.”

That verse reframed everything. Our suffering, our sacrifices, our uncertainty—they only make sense if eternity is real. If Jesus truly conquered death, and if we will be raised with Him, then everything we’ve endured over the past eight years is not just reasonable—it’s the only thing that makes sense.

But if He didn’t rise? Then we are to be pitied.

That’s the core of Paul’s argument. The resurrection isn’t just a doctrine to affirm—it’s the bedrock of our entire lives. It shapes our choices, our priorities, our sacrifices, and our risks. As Bible-believing Christians, we hold that Scripture is the ultimate authority, and Scripture is clear: Christ has indeed been raised, and we too will be raised with Him (1 Corinthians 15:20–23, 51–57). That hope is what fuels a life of obedience—even when obedience is costly.

And now, more than ever, I want my children to understand that. I want them to grow up knowing that our choices weren’t made because they were easy or convenient, but because they were grounded in eternity. I want them to learn that following Jesus may cost them relationships, stability, and comfort, but it will never be a wasted life.

My prayer is not that they would escape hardship, but that they would be more faithful and obedient disciples than I have been. I pray they’ll be so captivated by Christ that His mission defines everything about their lives, just as it has ours.

And so I come back to this simple but piercing question—one I hope my children will ask, and one I invite you to consider with me:

Does the way we’re living make sense in light of eternity?

Are we playing it safe, settling for comfort and predictability? Or have we surrendered everything to follow Jesus—wherever He leads, whatever it costs?

It’s easy to drift. To start well but lose sight of the end. But the mission of God is too urgent, the Gospel too precious, and eternity too real for us to drift into a life of mediocrity and safety.

Let’s not waste our lives on what won’t last. Let’s live for the day when Christ returns, when the trumpet sounds, and we are raised imperishable (1 Corinthians 15:52). Let’s live in a way that only makes sense if that day is real.

Because it is.