Help us Know the Shortness of Life
In a world that urges us to chase accomplishments and accumulate experiences, Scripture invites us to a deeper awareness of life’s purpose. Without Christ, our pursuits and ambitions often feel empty, slipping through our fingers like sand. But through an incarnational relationship with Jesus, each moment becomes rich with meaning and direction. Today’s reflection explores how embracing the shortness of life in union with Christ shifts our focus from temporary goals to an eternal perspective—leading us to a life that is both deeply grounded and full of hope.
Make us know the shortness of our life that we may gain wisdom of heart
Today I was reflecting on a Psalm from the Office of Readings. The Psalmist’s words carry a sobering wisdom: “Make us know the shortness of our life that we may gain wisdom of heart” (Psalm 90:12). If you are like me, it often knocks me back on how fast life goes by. As I enter the seasons of my 60’s (I know, I don’t look a day over 40 🙂) there is a realization that our years pass swiftly, often filled with struggles and fleeting comforts, and before we know it, we are gone. These words are both a warning and an invitation—a call to recognize life’s brevity and to live with urgency, but not as the world sees urgency. This is not about the rat race of accomplishing more, but about reorienting our lives to what truly matters. Without Christ, life’s years can drift by as a series of aims, accomplishments, and disappointments, all of which lack lasting meaning.
Leo Tolstoy, who spent much of his later life contemplating the meaning of human existence, wrote that “only knowledge leading to the perfection of goodness” has real value. He is spot on—a life aligned with divine purpose gives lasting significance. Our purpose is not just to live, but to live rightly—to live in a way that habituates us in virtue and brings us into closer union with God.
For the Christian, this transformation begins by rooting ourselves in an incarnational relationship with Christ. Without Him, life indeed feels like a series of repetitive tasks, each undertaken hoping the next one might somehow bring satisfaction. No amount of money, material possessions, career, positions of power will not bring happiness (if you haven't read the book of Ecclesiastes, I would urge you to do so).
“I have been crucified with Christ; it is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.” Galatians 2:20
The Wisdom of Charles de Foucald
As I reflect on this wisdom, I am reminded of the great and holy saint Charles de Foucald. Charles de Foucauld, once an agnostic who lived a life of privilege and pleasure, came to understand the emptiness of these pursuits. In his radical conversion, Foucauld let go of the world’s allure to imitate the hidden life of Christ, spending his days in simplicity and prayer among the Tuareg people in the Sahara. He found that true purpose lay not in wealth, fame, or accomplishments, but in loving Christ fully and serving others with humility.
To embrace humility, poverty, renunciation, abjection, solitude, suffering, as did Jesus in the manger. To care not for human grandeur, or rising in the world, or the esteem of men, but to esteem the very poor as much as the very rich. For me, to seek always the last of the last places, to order my life so as to be the last, the most despised of men.
Charles de Foucald
Foucauld’s life shows that it is not the length of our lives that matters, but how deeply we allow Christ to enter them. It is not the number of our years that ultimately defines us, but the love we allow to transform us. Foucauld's existence, empty and meaningless in worldly terms, became an unending offering to God—an act of quiet devotion (and reparation) that held eternal value.
The wisdom of life’s shortness isn’t meant to lead us into despair about how quickly time slips away.
We are called to let go of distractions and focus on what is eternal. In union with Christ, we see that our work, our relationships, and even our hardships are not passing shadows, but gifts to be offered back to Him in love. As the Psalmist prays, we too can ask for God’s favor upon “the work of our hands”—not for success in the worldly sense, but for the grace that every part of our lives might become a path to Him.
[…] the one who was seated on the throne said, “See, I am making all things new.” Revelation 21:5
In light of Christ, we recognize that even our smallest actions have eternal significance when offered to Him. Without this orientation, we will fumble through life, chasing things that really don’t matter and will never satisfy. In Christ, even the shortest life lived with love and purpose is filled with a richness the world cannot offer. In the end, the shortness of our life is not something to fear, but something to embrace in Christ, who transforms each moment into a means of drawing closer to Himself. This is the wisdom of heart we ask God to give us—a life where, despite its brevity, we may truly live.
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