You Don't Have as Much Time as You Think

You really don't have a lot of time.

I know it's not comfortable to hear. We don't like thinking about our mortality. We don't like confronting the reality that our days are numbered, that our time here is limited, that none of us are guaranteed tomorrow.

But it's true. And the sooner we accept it, the wiser or less foolish and conceited we'll become.

The Psalmist prayed:

This prayer is profound. It's powerful. And it's desperately needed today.

We like to think we have a lot of time. But even what we consider "a lot" isn't actually much when you think critically about it.

There's this default illusion we carry, this unspoken assumption that we're going to be here indefinitely. That we're not going anywhere. That death is something that happens to other people, but not to us. At least not yet. Not today.

We think we have time to get our lives in order later. Time to make things right with God eventually. Time to love our spouse well someday. Time to prioritize what truly matters when things slow down.

But the Bible shatters that illusion:

A vapor. A mist. Here one moment, gone the next.

That's not pessimism. That's reality.

Of course, we want to live to fulfill every desire, to accomplish every goal, to see our children grow, to enjoy the fruit of our labor. That's natural. That's human. I’m yet to meet a parent who delights for their children and grandchildren to die before them. None!

But here's the sobering truth: the old die and the young die, too.

What makes us think we're exempt? What makes us believe we're immune to the reality that has claimed every generation before us? Or what makes us think or feel for a second that we’re perhaps better in some way than all the strong, healthy, and kind-hearted people who just died since you began reading this piece?

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

It's only by the sheer grace of God that any of us woke up this morning. That our hearts are still beating. That we're still breathing. That we still have the opportunity to make things right, to live intentionally, to turn toward God.

People went to sleep last night and didn't wake up today. Some of them were younger than you. Some of them thought they had more time.

They were wrong.

Psalm 90 is attributed to Moses, and it's the oldest psalm in Scripture. It was written by a man who had seen an entire generation die in the wilderness because of unbelief and rebellion.

Moses knew something about the brevity of life. He watched hundreds of thousands of people perish in the desert, never reaching the Promised Land. He buried friends, colleagues, and an entire generation who forfeited their inheritance because they didn't take God seriously.

And out of that context, Moses prays:

Even at best, seventy or eighty years. And then we fly away.

Moses understood that time is not neutral. It's either being redeemed or wasted. Either invested in what matters or squandered on what doesn't.

That's why he prayed, "Teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom."

Numbering your days doesn't make you morbid. It makes you wise.

To number your days means to live with the end in mind. To acknowledge that your time here is finite and to steward it accordingly.

It means asking yourself: If I only had a year left, would I live differently? If I knew my spouse and I only had six months together, would I treat them the same way I do now?

It means prioritizing what will matter in eternity over what only matters in the moment.

It means refusing to live on autopilot, assuming there will always be time later to make things right.

Redeem the time. Buy it back. Don't waste it.

Because once it's gone, it's gone forever.

If you're married, this message carries a particular weight.

You don't have forever with your spouse. You have today. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe many tomorrows if God is gracious. But you don't know.

One of you will die first, most likely. One of you will be left behind. One of you will wish you had loved better, spoken kinder, forgiven faster, treasured more deeply. But it doesn’t need to be so.

Don't wait until it's too late to value the person sleeping next to you.

Don't assume you'll have time later to reconcile, to apologize, to express your love, to make things right.

The coldness you're holding onto right now might be the last thing they remember. The words you're withholding might never be spoken. The affection you're delaying might never be given.

Your spouse is in your household. Right now, while you still have breath.

Love them today. Honor them today. Serve them today.

Because tomorrow is not guaranteed.

Scripture says:

The wise see danger ahead and take action. They don't ignore warning signs. They don't assume everything will work out on its own. They respond.

The foolish? They just keep going. They see the signs and dismiss them. They hear the warnings and ignore them. And they perish because of it.

If you're reading this and you sense conviction in your spirit, don't dismiss it. Don't tell yourself you'll deal with it later. Don't assume you have more time.

That conviction is a grace. It's God giving you an opportunity to turn. To repent. To get right with Him while there's still time.

Don't squander it.

If you've never surrendered your life to Jesus Christ, hear me clearly: you don't have time to wait.

Not next week. Not next year. Not when things get better or when you feel ready.

Today. Right now.

You might not wake up tomorrow. You might not get another opportunity. You might not feel this conviction again. That’s not to scare you, it is to enlighten your understanding to the reality of life, and tilt your heart toward the light of God.

The gospel is simple: You are a sinner. Your sin separates you from a holy God. The penalty for that sin is death. But God, in His incredible love, sent His Son Jesus Christ to die in your place. He took the punishment you deserved. He bore the wrath of God on the cross so you wouldn't have to.

And three days later, He rose from the dead, defeating sin and death forever.

If you believe that, if you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised Him from the dead, you will be saved.

Don't wait. Call on Him today.

If you're already saved, this message is for you too.

Are you running with swiftness toward the grace of God? Or have you grown comfortable, complacent, lukewarm?

Are you living like someone who understands the brevity of life? Or have you slipped back into the illusion that you have all the time in the world?

Run. Don't walk. Don't stroll. Run.

Run toward holiness. Run toward obedience. Run toward intimacy with God. Run toward reconciliation with your spouse. Run toward the things that matter eternally.

Because you don't have as much time as you think.

So here's the question: What are you going to do with this moment?

If you're not saved, will you surrender your life to Christ today? Will you stop running from the One who loves you and died for you?

If you're a backslidden believer, will you repent and return? Will you stop making excuses and come back to the Father who's waiting for you?

If you're walking with God but living carelessly, will you recommit? Will you prioritize what matters? Will you stop wasting time on things that won't matter in eternity?

If you're holding unforgiveness toward your spouse, will you let it go today? Will you reconcile before it's too late?

If you've been distant or cold in your marriage, will you soften your heart while there's still time?

Don't assume you'll have another opportunity. Don't assume tomorrow will come.

Number your days. Gain a heart of wisdom. And live accordingly.

Father, teach us to number our days. Help us see the brevity of life and the urgency of eternity. Forgive us for living as though we have all the time in the world. Give us wisdom to prioritize what matters. Soften our hearts toward You and toward our spouses. Help us run with swiftness toward Your grace. And for those who don't know You, please draw them to Yourself today. In Jesus' name, Amen.