Ten years is a long time to give your life to a place. Long enough to raise children who know no other community. Long enough to form friendships that feel more like family. Long enough to learn, grow, fail, lead, and—by God’s grace—finish well.
Transitions like that are heavy. But when they’re guided by God’s calling, they’re also deeply sweet.
That tension—heavy and sweet—isn’t just true of seasons of life. It’s true of God’s Word itself.
God’s Word: Heavy, Yet Beautiful
The very first words of Scripture ever written down were etched into stone on the side of a mountain. Stone is not light. It doesn’t bend. It’s meant to endure. God’s law was heavy by design.
But God never intended His Word to be only heavy.
In Jewish tradition, young children—four or five years old—were introduced to Scripture in a remarkable way. They were brought to a rabbi’s home, where the Ten Commandments were read aloud. Commands like do not murder or do not covet were far too heavy for a child to grasp on their own.
So the rabbi’s wife would bring out warm cakes, traced with the words of the commandments in honey. As the children traced the letters, they tasted the sweetness.
The lesson was simple and profound:
God’s Word is not only weighty—it is sweet.
Stone tells us what is right.
Honey makes us want it.
Without relationship, Scripture becomes a burden. With relationship, obedience becomes desire.
Why Were You Made?
One of my greatest fears is reaching the end of life only to realize it was wasted.
John Piper tells the story of an older man near the end of his life, sitting quietly in a church pew, repeating under his breath, “I’ve wasted it.” That image has stayed with me for years.
Purpose matters. Value matters. And without them, people will fill their lives with anything that promises meaning—even if it’s empty.
The question isn’t whether we’ll pursue something.
The question is what we’ll pursue.
Start Here: Earnestly Seeking God
Psalm 63 opens with a powerful declaration:
“O God, you are my God; earnestly I seek you.”
That word earnestly carries three ideas:
- Wholehearted – God doesn’t get compartments of your life. He gets all of it. Morning and night. Church and work. Home and school. Failure and repentance.
- Urgent – Obedience delayed is obedience denied. “Tomorrow” faith impacts today’s relationships. God’s calling is always now.
- Intentional – Love is spelled T-I-M-E. God doesn’t demand perfection; He invites pursuit. A little time with Him is always better than none.
The reality is this: friendship with the world and friendship with God cannot coexist comfortably. One will always push the other aside. But when you seek God daily, the hard things become easier—and the sinful things become harder.
As one writer said:
“The higher you climb the mountain of God, the smaller your toys look.”
You Were Made for This
When you walk in God’s calling, even hard moments make sense.
I once heard a child say while building something, “I was made for this.” That’s what calling feels like—when obedience aligns with identity.
Psalm 63 wasn’t written in comfort. It was written in the desert. Yet even there, the psalmist could say he was satisfied—not because circumstances were good, but because God was near.
Purpose doesn’t remove hardship.
It gives hardship meaning.
When wisdom builds the house, understanding establishes it, and knowledge fills it (Proverbs 24:3–5), life becomes something you get to live—not something you endure.
Everyone Is Seeking Something
Every day, we choose what to pursue.
Lot looked toward what appeared beautiful and walked into destruction.
Abraham looked upward and followed God into promise.
The difference wasn’t opportunity—it was direction.
When people lack purpose, they will chase identity wherever it’s offered. Without God, even the most absurd pursuits start to feel reasonable. Wandering always follows the absence of calling.
You may never look like the extremes of culture—but drifting is still drifting.
Don’t Forget Where You Started
The danger isn’t just failing early.
The danger is finishing empty.
Scripture is full of people who started well and ended poorly—wise leaders, faithful servants, entire churches who lost their passion once things were built.
It’s easy to forget that what God built through us was never built by us.
That’s why the final step is the same as the first:
Return to the beginning.
“O God, you are my God; earnestly I seek you.”
The pursuit never ends. The sweetness never fades. And a life centered on that pursuit is a life that will never be wasted.
