Have you ever found yourself staring at a photograph of someone you love?
Maybe your mother, a sibling, your spouse, or a dear friend, someone who’s no longer here, and quietly wondered, “Where are they right now?
Are they truly resting in peace?
Are they watching over you somehow?
Maybe even praying for you?
Or are they waiting for something far greater than anything we can imagine?

These aren’t just passing thoughts.
They are questions that have echoed in the human heart for centuries, especially for those of us who’ve sat through the silence of grief or walked out of a funeral still holding more questions than comfort.

And yet, despite how heavy or uncertain these thoughts may feel, there is good news.
The Bible is not silent about what happens after death.
In fact, it speaks with clarity and hope.
But here’s the twist.
Not all Christians understand it the same way.

And maybe that’s why even now you can hear people say, “They’re in a better place.”
Or, “He’s watching over us,” or, “She’s with the angels now.”
But have you ever paused and asked yourself, “How do we know that?”
Are those phrases grounded in God’s word?
Or are they simply soothing words we say when we don’t know what else to say?

Because here’s the tension.
If the Bible says the dead are sleeping, then why do so many people report near-death experiences where they see their loved ones?
If heaven is immediate, what exactly is paradise?
And if the soul goes straight to the presence of God, then what’s the resurrection for?

These aren’t abstract debates.
They’re deeply personal, and they shape how we live today and how we face the end of life tomorrow.

So, in this journey, we’re going to open the scriptures and explore together not just what popular culture or tradition says, but what God’s word really reveals about what the dead are doing right now.

And as we walk through this truth, we’ll also look at different viewpoints from respected pastors like Billy Graham and John Piper to ancient Christian thinkers like Gregory of Nyssa and even modern biblical scholars who challenge long-held assumptions.

Some of what you’ll hear may comfort you deeply.
Some of it may surprise you.
But all of it is meant to give you clarity, peace, and most of all, hope.

So take a deep breath.
This is not a conversation about fear.
It’s a conversation about eternity and what it means for you, for your loved ones, and for the God who holds it all.

Ready?
Let’s begin where it all starts, with a truth so foundational yet so often misunderstood even by people of faith.

What does the Bible actually say about death?
Is it an end, a pause, a passage?

Ecclesiastes 12:7 gives us a simple but powerful summary.
“The dust returns to the ground it came from, and the spirit returns to God who gave it.”

In other words, the physical body breaks down.
It returns to the earth.
But the spirit, the very breath of life that came from God, goes back to him.

This verse isn’t poetic metaphor.
It’s divine design.
Go back to Genesis 2:7.
Scripture says, “Then the Lord God formed a man from the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living being.”

It doesn’t say that man *has* a soul.
It says man *became* a soul.
In other words, we are not simply spirits trapped inside bodies.
We are living souls, body and breath intertwined.
When that breath leaves us, life ends, but something eternal returns to its source.

And Job, who understood grief better than most, wrote in chapter 14, “Man lies down and does not rise.
Till the heavens are no more, they will not awake nor be roused from their sleep.”

That might sound somber, but it’s actually hopeful.
It means death, as the Bible sees it, isn’t final.
It’s sleep—temporary, awaiting a place between two moments: what we call the last breath and what God calls the resurrection.

Pastor John Piper once said, “Death is the last enemy, but for the believer, it’s already been defeated.
So, we don’t face it with dread.
We walk through it like a doorway.”

And Pastor Tim Keller added, “Death is not natural.
It’s not just a part of life.
It’s the result of sin.”
Romans 6:23 makes that clear.
But Jesus came to break its power.

But here’s where things get really interesting.
A lot of our modern ideas about what happens after we die—floating souls, immediate entry into heaven, or even reincarnation—don’t actually come from scripture.
Many of those ideas trace back to ancient philosophers like Plato, who taught that the soul is naturally immortal and will live forever regardless of faith or judgment.

But the Bible paints a different picture.
According to God’s word, eternal life isn’t automatic.
It’s a gift.
“For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.”
That’s Romans 6:23.

Now, let’s bring it closer to home.
If you’ve ever lost someone you love deeply—a spouse, a parent, maybe even a child—you’ve probably felt the finality of death in your bones.
The silence, the ache.
Hebrews 9:27 reminds us, “It is appointed for a person to die once, and after that comes judgment.”
One life, one death, no second chances, no spiritual recycling.

That’s why understanding what death really is matters so much, because it shapes everything that comes next.

And from a psychological perspective, there’s something beautiful here.
Studies show that people with a strong and confident belief in what happens after death, especially those who trust in a loving God, experience less anxiety about their mortality.

In other words, when we see death not as an abyss, but as a doorway into the arms of Christ, we stop living in fear.
We start living in purpose.

So the big question becomes this: If death is separation between the body and the spirit, then what happens next?
Where do we go?
Do we awaken somewhere instantly, or do we wait for something greater?
If the Bible calls it sleep, then what do we make of the stories people tell about near-death experiences, about tunnels of light, voices of loved ones, or even visions of heaven?
Are those just illusions, or are they glimpses?

We’ll explore that in the next part.
But for now, let’s remember this.
According to the Bible, death is not your ending.
It’s not a vanishing.
It’s the moment your soul steps out of time and into the hands of God.

Let’s keep going, because what happens after that moment might surprise you.

So here’s the question that weighs on almost every heart the moment we close our eyes in this life: What happens next?
Is it immediate glory, a silent waiting, or something else entirely?

Jesus gave us a remarkable clue when he turned to the thief on the cross and said, “Truly, I tell you today, you will be with me in paradise.”
That’s in Luke 23:43.

Think about that.
That thief didn’t have time to clean up his life, serve in church, or memorize scripture.
All he had was a final moment of faith.
And Jesus promised him paradise that very day.

And the Apostle Paul echoes this hope.
In Philippians 1:23, he says he desires “to depart and be with Christ, which is far better.”
Again, in 2 Corinthians 5:8, Paul writes that to be absent from the body is to be present with the Lord.
Not someday, not eventually, but present with him.

This is the foundation of what many Protestant Christians believe—that for those who are in Christ, death is not a long sleep in the dark.
It’s a direct entrance into the presence of our savior.

Billy Graham put it beautifully when he said, “We should not fear death if we know the Lord, because death is merely the homecoming.”

But not all Christian traditions understand this the same way.
In Catholic teaching, there’s an idea called purgatory, a temporary state where the souls of the saved who are not yet completely purified undergo final sanctification before entering the full presence of God.

According to the Catechism of the Catholic Church, paragraph number 1030, this purification is entirely separate from the punishment of the damned.
It’s not hell; it’s mercy.

Now, let’s pause and bring in a challenging thought.
Some scholars, yes, even within Christian academia, question the interpretation of Jesus’s words to the thief on the cross.
In ancient Greek manuscripts, there’s no punctuation.
So some argue the verse could be read, “Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise,” meaning not necessarily today in paradise, but a promise made today for a future fulfillment.

Is that view mainstream?
No.
But it’s a reminder that our understanding must always be humble and open to deeper study.

And then there’s the question so many people quietly wonder but are afraid to ask.
What about near-death experiences?
People who say they died on an operating table and saw a tunnel of light, or spoke to a loved one, or even saw angels.

Some believers find comfort in those stories.
Others are cautious, even skeptical.
Because while those experiences feel vivid and real, they aren’t always consistent with scripture.
Some of those visions align with biblical themes.
Others reflect cultural or even new-age ideas.

And it’s important to note: many respected Christian voices, including pastors and theologians, warn that we should never build doctrine on experience alone.

So what do we know for certain?
According to scripture, for those who belong to Christ, death is a passage—not into silence or nothingness, but into something far better.
Whether that presence is complete or partial, whether we rest or rejoice immediately, one thing is certain: we are no longer separated from the love of God.

That’s Romans 8:39: “Neither death nor life… can separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

So let me ask you: if your loved one died in Christ, can you imagine what they’re experiencing right now?
Not just peace, but peace in the presence of the one who wipes away every tear.
Not just rest, but rest with purpose.

And for those still unsure, still searching, maybe today is the day to settle the question in your own heart.
Because the greatest comfort in facing death is knowing who’s waiting for you on the other side.

In the next part, we’ll ask, “What are our loved ones doing right now?
Are they active?
Are they watching us?
Are they praying, or simply resting?”
The Bible gives more clues than you might think, and we’ll explore that together.
Stay with me.

If your loved one trusted in Christ, what are they doing this very moment in heaven?
Are they simply resting?
Are they watching over you?
Could they even be interceding for you?

These are the kinds of questions that stir something deep within our hearts, especially when grief feels fresh or when we are quietly longing for reassurance.

The book of Revelation 14:13 gives us a beautiful glimpse.
It says, “Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord.
They will rest from their labor, for their deeds follow them.”
That one sentence alone tells us two powerful truths: that heaven is a place of rest—true, soul-deep rest—and that everything we’ve done for the Lord on earth… it still matters.
It follows us.
Heaven is not an escape from meaning.
It’s the fulfillment of it.

But heaven isn’t just a resting place.
Revelation 7:9-10 paints a breathtaking scene: “A great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, tribe, people, and language, standing before the throne… crying out, ‘Salvation belongs to our God!’”

Right now, your loved one could be part of that worship, clothed in glory, surrounded by the redeemed, joining in an eternal anthem of praise.

And there’s more.
Hebrews 12:1 refers to those who’ve gone before us as “a great cloud of witnesses,” almost like spiritual spectators cheering us on in our race of faith.
While scripture doesn’t say they watch our every move, this image suggests a sacred connection across eternity—they are aware that God’s redemptive story is still unfolding, and they’re part of that story.

Now, here’s where things get even more interesting.
In Catholic and Eastern Orthodox traditions, believers hold to the communion of saints, the idea that those in heaven continue to love, pray, and intercede for those of us still on earth.

This view finds some symbolic support in Revelation 5:8, where it speaks of “golden bowls full of incense, which are the prayers of God’s people,” offered by the 24 elders who represent the faithful.
It’s a picture of worship, but also possibly intercession.

Of course, many Protestant believers see this differently.
They emphasize that while those in heaven may worship and wait, scripture never commands or encourages us to pray *to* the dead or seek their help.
They view the “prayers of the saints” in Revelation not as active intercession, but as symbolic of how God treasures the prayers of the faithful from every era.

So, where do we land?
Wherever your theological background, one thing is clear: believers in heaven are not bored.
They’re not floating in some blank white space.
They’re resting, rejoicing, and waiting.

Waiting for what?
For the great resurrection, for the day when God will restore all things and unite soul and body in glory.

Revelation 6:9-11 even shows martyred saints crying out, “How long, Sovereign Lord… until you judge the earth?”
It shows a yearning—not impatience, but anticipation—for God’s full justice and kingdom.

And Charles Spurgeon once said, “Worship in heaven will be a pure explosion of joy, not limited by weary bodies or distracted minds.”
Just imagine that: no more pain, no more tears, just unfiltered joy in the presence of Christ himself.

So let me ask you: if you knew right now that your loved one is worshiping with full voice, resting in peace beyond anything this world can offer, and longing for the final day when God’s plan is complete—how would that shape your grief, your hope, your own walk with God?

Let’s carry that picture with us as we move forward, because next we’ll turn to the harder question.
Where are those who never trusted in Christ?
And how do we hold truth and compassion together when we talk about hell?
Don’t miss it.

Now, this part of the conversation isn’t easy, but it’s necessary.
If heaven is real, then so is hell.
And if God is love, then he is also holy.
So the question must be asked: What happens to those who reject God’s offer of salvation?
Where are they now?

In the Gospel of Luke, chapter 16, Jesus tells a sobering parable about a rich man and a poor man named Lazarus.
After both men die, Lazarus is carried to a place of comfort—Abraham’s side—while the rich man finds himself in Hades, in torment.

Verse 23 says, “In Hades he was in torment, and he looked up and saw Abraham far away, with Lazarus by his side.”
What strikes us here is not just the suffering, but the awareness.
The rich man feels, remembers, and even pleads.
He’s not asleep.
He’s not unaware.
He is conscious of his condition, and it’s unbearable.

This aligns with 2 Thessalonians 1:9, where Paul writes, “They will be punished with everlasting destruction and shut out from the presence of the Lord.”
And again in Matthew 25:41, Jesus describes the final judgment: “Depart from me, you who are cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels.”

These are not metaphors of discomfort.
They are declarations of divine separation—of being shut out from the very source of life, love, and peace.

Now, before we go any further, let’s pause and ask: How do we reconcile this with a God of love?
How does eternal punishment make sense in light of eternal mercy?

That’s where deeper theological conversations begin.
For example, some early church fathers like Gregory of Nyssa believed in a concept called *apocatastasis*—a hope that eventually all souls might be restored and reconciled to God.
While this view was never widely accepted as doctrine, it reflects the human longing to believe that God’s mercy has no limits.

Others propose what’s called annihilationism, the idea that the souls of the unredeemed will not suffer forever, but instead be completely destroyed after judgment.
They point to verses like “the soul that sins shall die,” and to images in scripture where fire consumes rather than endlessly torments.
These believers argue that eternal punishment doesn’t necessarily mean eternal conscious torment, but rather an irreversible loss of being.

Yet, for many Christians across the centuries, the traditional understanding remains: hell is real, eternal, and tragic.
Not because God delights in punishment, but because he honors human choice.

C.S. Lewis once put it this way: “There are only two kinds of people in the end: those who say to God, ‘Thy will be done,’ and those to whom God says, ‘In the end, thy will be done.’”
Hell, then, is not so much imposed from without as it is chosen from within—a soul that eternally refuses God’s grace.

But here’s the hope: hell was not made for people.
Matthew 25 says it was prepared for the devil and his angels.
God’s desire, as 2 Peter 3:9 reminds us, is that “none should perish, but all should come to repentance.”
That’s why Jesus came—to make a way where there was no way.

Now, let me ask you a difficult but necessary question: If God truly is love, why would anyone remain separated from him forever?
Is it possible that divine love allows us the freedom to choose, even if that choice breaks his heart?

These are not questions for debate alone.
They’re questions that confront our hearts, and they lead us to the urgency of the gospel.
Because if this is true—if eternity is real—then everything matters.
Every choice, every moment of mercy, every time we share Christ in love.

In the next part of this journey, we’ll explore one of the most controversial ideas: Can the dead communicate with the living?
And what does scripture really say about that?

This is one of the most common and emotional questions people ask, especially after losing someone they deeply love.
Can the dead reach out to us?
Can they see what we’re doing?
Can they guide us, protect us, or even send signs from the other side?

For some, the idea brings comfort.
For others, fear.
But what does the Bible actually say?

Let’s start with a striking statement from Ecclesiastes 9:5.
It says, “The dead know nothing.
They have no further reward, and even their name is forgotten.”
This isn’t a cold dismissal of those who’ve passed.
It’s a clear line that separates the realm of the living from the realm of the dead.
Once someone crosses that boundary, their participation in this world ceases.

Isaiah 8:19 gives us an even more direct warning: “Why consult the dead on behalf of the living?
Should not a people inquire of their God?”
The message is unmistakable: when we are confused, grieving, or seeking direction, we are not called to speak to the dead.
We are called to speak to the living God.

Now, someone might ask, “But what about all those stories—those supernatural dreams, visitations, or even near-death experiences where people see lost loved ones or feel their presence?”
It’s true, these experiences are reported across cultures and faiths, and often carry similar elements: bright light, feelings of peace, even glimpses of deceased family members.

But here’s the caution: emotional experience does not always equal divine truth.
John MacArthur once warned that many so-called spiritual encounters are not from God at all, but deceptive.
He said, “The spirits that appear as lost loved ones may not be what they seem.
Satan disguises himself as an angel of light.”
This echoes Paul’s warning in 2 Corinthians 11.
In other words, not every comforting experience comes from heaven.

Let’s not forget the story of King Saul in 1 Samuel 28.
In desperation, Saul sought out a medium to summon the prophet Samuel’s spirit.
What followed was not God’s approval, but his judgment.
This wasn’t a divine breakthrough.
It was a spiritual failure.
The Lord had already stopped speaking to Saul because of his disobedience, and instead of repentance, Saul turned to the dead.

Luke 16 gives us perhaps the clearest picture.
When the rich man in Hades begged for someone to return from the dead and warn his brothers, Abraham responded, “They have Moses and the prophets.
Let them listen to them.
If they do not listen to Moses and the prophets, they will not be convinced even if someone rises from the dead.”

The point?
God has already spoken through his word, through his son, and through the Spirit.
We are not meant to seek guidance from beyond the grave.

Now, that doesn’t mean your loved one is lost to you forever.
It doesn’t mean their love didn’t matter.
It means they’ve stepped into a new reality, one where they’re no longer bound by the concerns of this world.
And that’s actually a comfort, because if they’re with Christ, they’re more alive than ever, but they’re no longer part of this earthly journey.

So what do we do with those deep longings to feel close to someone we’ve lost?
We bring them to the Lord.
We cry, we remember, we grieve—but not without hope.
1 Thessalonians chapter 4 reminds us that we do not grieve like those who have no hope.
Why?
Because we believe in the resurrection.

Now, let me offer a thoughtful challenge.
If someone claims they received a message from a deceased loved one, should we believe them?
Or should we test every spirit, as 1 John 4 instructs us?
Could it be that in our pain, we are more vulnerable to deception than we realize?

It’s not wrong to miss someone.
It’s not wrong to weep.
But it is wrong to replace God’s voice with another.
As believers, we must turn our ears to scripture, not seances; to prayer, not psychics; to the Holy Spirit, not spirits of the dead.

In the next part, we’ll look at something powerful: the resurrection, the final judgment, and the breathtaking vision of a new heaven and a new earth.
Because the story doesn’t end with the grave.
It’s just getting started.

What if I told you the most breathtaking moment of your existence hasn’t happened yet?
Yes, even after death, after heaven or Hades, there is more.
The Bible points to a day when the graves will break open, when the dead will rise, and when all of creation will be made new.

This isn’t just poetic language.
This is the climactic hope of the Christian faith.

Let’s start with the words of Jesus himself: “The hour is coming when all who are in the graves will hear his voice and come out—those who have done good to the resurrection of life, and those who have done evil to the resurrection of judgment.”
John 5:28-29.

This moment is not a metaphor.
It is a literal event.
Bodies will rise.
Souls will be reunited with new, glorified forms.
And judgment will follow—not as a vague idea, but as a divine appointment every soul must face.

The apostle Paul explains this transformation in 1 Corinthians chapter 15: “It is sown a perishable body, it is raised imperishable.
It is sown in dishonor, it is raised in glory.
It is sown a natural body, it is raised a spiritual body.”

What does this mean?
It means our future is not some ghostly, floaty-cloud drifting eternity.
No, it is real.
It is physical.
It is whole.
Just as Jesus rose in a resurrected body that could be touched, seen, and even eat fish, so will we.
This is not just resuscitation.
It’s resurrection.

And it doesn’t stop there.
Paul goes on in Romans chapter 8 to describe a cosmic renewal: “creation itself will be liberated from its bondage to decay and brought into the freedom and glory of the children of God.”

In other words, heaven is not just where we go when we die.
It’s where God’s story finds its grand finale: a new heaven and a new earth, united in beauty, without sin, suffering, or death.

The Eastern Orthodox Church paints this future as a glorified cosmos, a place where the spiritual and the material are not in conflict but in perfect harmony, where light, life, and love flood every fiber of existence.

And many Protestant scholars agree: the final vision in Revelation 21 isn’t of us escaping to the clouds.
It’s of heaven coming down to earth.
“Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man.”
It’s not the end of the story.
It’s the restoration of what was lost in Eden.

But it also includes a sobering reality: judgment.
The book of Revelation speaks of the great white throne, where the books will be opened and each person will be judged according to what they have done.
This is not a scare tactic.
It’s a wake-up call.
The justice of God is not to be feared if we are in Christ, but it is to be respected.

So where does that leave us?
It means your body matters.
Your choices matter.
Your faith matters.
And it means that your loved ones who’ve died in Christ are not just resting in peace—they are waiting, just as we are, for the day when death will die, when every tear will be wiped away, and when the trumpet will sound and time will be no more.

Let me ask you this: Have you ever thought of eternity as your true home?
Not just an escape, but the fulfillment of your deepest longing.

Next, we’ll talk about what we should do now.
Because if all of this is real—and scripture says it is—then we are living in the in-between: the resurrection of Christ and the resurrection to come.
And that means today matters eternally.

Now that we’ve walked through the reality of death, the hope of heaven, the tragedy of hell, the promise of resurrection, and the glory of the new creation, one final question remains: What does this mean for us right here, right now?

Paul gives us the answer in 2 Corinthians 6:2: “Now is the day of salvation.”
Not tomorrow.
Not next year.
Not once life slows down or gets easier.
Now.

Why?
Because everything we’ve learned so far about eternity, judgment, redemption, and rest isn’t just meant to inform us.
It’s meant to transform us.
This life is the only window we have to respond to God’s grace.

Hebrews 9:27 says, “It is appointed for man to die once, and after that comes judgment.”
There are no second chances after the grave.
That means the decisions we make in this life have eternal weight.

So where do we begin?
Micah 6:8 gives us a beautifully simple road map: “What does the Lord require of you?
To act justly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God.”
That’s not a checklist.
It’s a posture of the heart.
It means living each day with integrity, compassion, and a sense of deep dependence on the Lord.
It means seeking righteousness, not to earn salvation, but to reflect the one who saved us.

Jesus made it clear in Matthew 7:13-14: “Enter through the narrow gate.
For wide is the gate, and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it.
But small is the gate, and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it.”
The narrow road isn’t easy.
It requires surrender.
It demands trust, but it leads to life—real, lasting, eternal life.

Now I want to speak directly to your heart.
If you’ve already trusted in Christ, let this message renew your confidence.
You have nothing to fear.
Not death, not judgment, not eternity.
Your name is written in the book of life.
You are secure.
So live boldly, love deeply, and keep your eyes on the finish line.

But maybe you’re not sure.
Maybe you’ve gone to church for years, but never truly surrendered your life.
Or maybe you’ve been moral, kind, and sincere, but you’ve never known the saving power of Jesus.

Or maybe—and this is a hard one—you’re wondering about that loved one who died.
Someone good, honest, loving, but who never confessed Christ.
This is where we must trust God’s justice and mercy.
We don’t know every detail, but we do know that God is perfectly righteous and perfectly loving.
He sees the heart.
He is not willing that any should perish.
And he has made the way clear through his son.

Let me leave you with this final, deeply personal question: If someone lives a morally good life but has never heard of Jesus, can they still be saved?
This is a question that theologians have wrestled with for centuries.
Some point to Romans chapter 1, where Paul says that creation itself reveals God’s nature so that all are without excuse.
Others emphasize Acts 4:12: “There is no other name under heaven given to mankind by which we must be saved.”

Wherever you land, one truth remains: We have the gospel, and we are responsible for how we respond.
And while we can trust God with the souls of others, we cannot afford to delay when it comes to our own.

So friend, don’t wait.
Don’t assume.
Don’t gamble with eternity.
Today—yes, today—is the day of salvation.
Reach out, open your Bible, talk to God, call on the name of Jesus, and let this truth bring you peace.

When your time comes, you can face death, not with fear, but with faith, knowing you’ll step into the arms of the one who gave everything to welcome you home.
And maybe, just maybe, you’ll hear him say, “Well done, good and faithful servant.”

So now we’ve come full circle.
We started with a question that echoes in every grieving heart: Where are our loved ones now?
And along the way, we’ve listened to what scripture says clearly, deeply, and tenderly about death, judgment, heaven, hell, and the ultimate hope of resurrection.

We’ve seen that death is not the end.
It’s not even the final chapter.
It’s a doorway.
For those who belong to Christ, it leads to rest, joy, and glorious reunion.
For those who reject him, it leads to separation—but not because God delights in it, but because he honors human freedom.

We’ve seen that the dead are not watching us or wandering among us.
They are either with the Lord or apart from him, awaiting the final resurrection and judgment.

We’ve explored different views, hard questions, and even uncomfortable truths.
But through it all, we’ve returned to the same foundation: God’s word does not leave us guessing, and his love does not leave us hopeless.

So now, friend, what will you do with what you’ve heard?
Will you keep living as though eternity is just a vague idea for later?
Or will you live now with intention, with clarity, with your eyes fixed not on the things that are seen, but on the things that are unseen?

Jesus didn’t just come to prepare a place for us.
He came to prepare us for that place.

So if you’ve never surrendered your life to him, now is the moment.
Not tomorrow.
Not when you feel more ready.
But now.
As Paul said, now is the day of salvation.
You don’t need to have it all figured out.
You just need to open your heart and say, “Jesus, I trust you.
I need you.
I want to be yours.”

And if you’ve already believed, then let this message anchor your hope, strengthen your courage, and stir your compassion for those who haven’t yet heard.
Eternity isn’t just our destination.
It’s our motivation.
Let your life now be shaped by what awaits you then.

One day, when your time on earth comes to an end, you won’t need to be afraid.
Because when your eyes close in this world, they will open in the presence of the one who conquered death for you.
And maybe, just maybe, you’ll hear the words that every believer longs to hear: “Well done, good and faithful servant.
Enter into the joy of your Lord.”

Until then, live faithfully, love deeply, and hold on to the blessed hope that one day death will be no more, tears will be wiped away, and we will dwell with our God forever.

Amen