Living in Light of Eternity
As of this past week, I am 22 weeks pregnant with, Lord willing, our third child. At this point, we are over the moon about the increasing nearness of our due date and the seeming reality that our family will be growing this fall. Pregnancy after loss has been a challenge I will write about another time, but for the sake of this post, I’d like to talk about a connection God has made ever more apparent in this season of life.
Because of our loss in January, I lived in the first trimester from November 2025 until about May 2026, with a brief break in January. It was an extended time of all-day nausea and exhaustion. The first go-around was filled with excitement even amid the sickness. The second go-around was tempered with cautious gratitude. Every time I found myself running to the bathroom, as weird as it sounds, I found myself saying ‘thank you’ to God. I knew the cause of my discomfort was a blessing, and that blessing wasn’t a guarantee. Every moment with this little one has been cherished.
Now that we are well into the second trimester, the nausea has mostly subsided, but it’s also been replaced by new symptoms. One welcomed change has been the almost constant flutters-turned-kicks I feel throughout the days (and sometimes the nights too). It is the sweetest of ‘symptoms’ and one that I cannot begin to convey my joy and excitement over. And yet another set of symptoms is my old friends, sciatica and SPD pain. Most every step I take is accompanied by varying levels of pain, sometimes only a hint and sometimes enough to make me wonder if I have a knife lodged in me where the sun don’t shine.
But again, all of these symptoms, even the wildly unpleasant ones, remind me that God is knitting together a child in me. Without a doubt, there is rarely a moment that goes by when I am not aware of or reminded that I am pregnant. That simple truth is joyous enough to endure the pain and makes the sweet acrobatics this little girl participates in even sweeter.
All of this leads me to the connection I’d like to expound on today. In the same way that I am constantly reminded and pointed to the fact that big changes are coming in life later this fall, we, as believers, are also constantly reminded to look ahead to what’s coming.
Every Christian has a beautiful promise of things yet to come.
Then I saw “a new heaven and a new earth,” for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and there was no longer any sea. I saw the Holy City, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride beautifully dressed for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Look! God’s dwelling place is now among the people, and he will dwell with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. ‘He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death’ or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.”
He who was seated on the throne said, “I am making everything new!” Then he said, “Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true.”
He said to me: “It is done. I am the Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the End. To the thirsty I will give water without cost from the spring of the water of life. Those who are victorious will inherit all this, and I will be their God and they will be my children. Revelation 21:1-7
The foundation of this promise is that our Savior is coming back one day, and our eternity is set with him in paradise, forever. This promise gives way to promises a hundredfold - pain will be no more, this world is not all there is, there will be no more tears, every wrong will be made right, every ounce of brokenness will be restored, etc., etc., etc.
The reality we live in can seem a far-distant cry from the reality of this promise. We live in pain, brokenness, suffering, doubt, fear, diagnoses, uncertainty, betrayal, failure, tears, and death. It affects so much of our everyday life that it can sometimes be hard to remember that the best is truly yet to come. But rather than allowing the pain we’re in now to remind us of the promise we have in Christ, the overwhelming temptation can be to let it cloud our view of the promise. We feel discouraged, hopeless, and confused. We don’t have a ‘due date’ as I do that lets me know exactly how long this discomfort will last before the end result comes. Sometimes all we see is a lifetime of disappointment behind us and years of discouragement ahead with no end in sight.
But living a life that chooses to be blind to what’s coming is NOT the call we see of Christians in Scripture. We do not see any license to let the worries of this life overtake us. We don’t see any exception to the task at hand. Does Scripture discredit our suffering? Absolutely not. Does it diminish the pain we feel and the tears we cry? Not a bit. What Scripture does do is constantly point us back to the glory of Christ to come.
We are called to see our troubles for what they are - light and momentary - even when they feel heavy and eternal, because we are meant to weigh them against our true eternity with Christ (2 Corinthians 4:17). We are encouraged to set our sights on the things above even while we live amongst the things here on Earth (Colossians 3:2). We are given the shocking task of considering our trials with joy, not because we’re just faking it until we’re making it, but because they are a reminder that this world is not where we find our hope or peace (James 1:2-4). They are meant to serve as reminders that this is not our forever home.
Friend, I don’t know what season of life you find yourself in. You may be coasting through life, wondering when it’s going to get better. You may be in the midst of a monster of a trial, where it’s a good day if you’ve managed to get to the end of it. Your life may feel like one long series of heartbreaks. Regardless of where you find yourself, please allow me a moment to echo the calls of Scripture for you and me to hear again. Keep running the race. Keep trying. Keep fighting to set your sights on all that is to come. Don’t let the hardships of this life blind you to the glory of Christ. His promise will be fulfilled. I can’t say when that will be, whether we will only need to wait days, months, or decades until he comes back or he takes us home. But I do know, without a doubt, that the first day of our eternity with him will make our entire lifetimes spent in this broken world feel worth it.
Hope is here, and it’s coming. Peace is here, and it’s coming. Joy is here, and it’s coming. Don’t lose heart, friend. May all moments of joy be savored, bringing excitement for the joy to come, and may all moments of brokenness remind you that eternity is coming and our life has yet to truly begin.
I’ll leave you with some of the lyrics to one of my current favorite songs, A Pilgrim’s Progress by Matt Papa:
Keep runnin', keep runnin'
Don't lose heart; don't you give up now
And don't turn around
You've got to find a way somehow
To keep reaching, keep fighting
The pain cannot compare to the reward
That will be yours
That waits in store for those who just keep runnin'
