We all will die. Yesterday’s news was a tragic reminder to us all about the brevity and uncertainty of life. (Kobe Bryant, his daughter, and others were killed in a helicopter crash.) Amidst the reminders to live life to the fullest and to pull our loved ones tight, the book of Ecclesiastes shouts into the void with helpful insight.
Ecclesiastes 3:1–2 [1] For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven: [2] a time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted; (ESV)
None of us know how many days we have left. No one knows their time. It seems especially tragic when three teens and parents with many years left to live are snatched too soon.
I want you to now contrast this with another funeral I had the honor to attend last week. A good family friend passed away unexpectedly at the age of 84. He died leaving a legacy of love and faithfulness to God, his wife, and his family. This seems like a more normal story, the kind of story we would prefer if we were to be
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