If I find in myself desires which nothing in this world can satisfy, the only logical explanation is that I was made for another world. – C. S. Lewis

We often think of life as an incredibly precious gift, and it truly is. Every day, I discover new wonders that make this life so worth living—holding my wife’s hand, hearing my children giggle, discovering new music, or perfecting a brisket recipe. Life is beautiful. Yet, as a believer in Christ, the longer I am here, the longer I am distanced from the unimaginable joy of Heaven. As beautiful as this world is, it cannot compare to an eternity with my Lord. People often speak of "God winks" or "snapshots of Heaven," where God peels back the curtain to give us a faint glimpse of how sweet eternity will be. This is likely why, even amidst such earthly wonder, there remains a persistent tinge of sadness and grief.

My wedding day was incredible, and while I cherish those memories, I also feel a sense of grief that it was a once-in-a-lifetime moment I can never relive. The days my children were born were the happiest of my life, and watching them grow is an indescribable joy; yet, I grieve the loss of the infants they once were. I celebrate who they are becoming, but I will always miss seeing the world through their young, fresh eyes. I know the day is coming when they will no longer fall asleep in my arms, and that brings a specific kind of sorrow. I think of my grandparents, my best friend, and others who have passed. I am grateful for the pieces of them I carry with me, but I grieve that I will never be in their presence on this earth again. It doesn’t even have to be so weighty—I still mourn a specific queso dip from a New Orleans restaurant that closed during the pandemic. I genuinely miss that queso.

We live in a world that is fading. Since the Fall, we have been surrounded by death, decay, sorrow, and chaos. Deep down, we know this isn’t how things were supposed to be. We were created for communion with God in a paradise designed just for us, and we feel that truth instinctively. When we see a world filled with pain, we cannot help but mourn. You may have heard of "good grief," but I call this holy grief.

Philippians 3:20 reminds us that as believers, our citizenship is in Heaven. We are strangers here, and this world should never feel entirely comfortable or satisfying. That discomfort is a longing for home. We must allow God to use that holy grief to motivate us to serve and glorify Him with the time we have left. It is about living out the words of the most famous prayer ever recorded: "on earth as it is in Heaven." We should use our longing to drive us to bring His Kingdom to earth, sharing as much of Jesus as we can with as many people as possible.

They say "everybody wants to go to Heaven, but nobody wants to die." As believers, we shouldn’t fear death, but we shouldn’t be afraid to truly live, either. We are here for a purpose designed by God long before we were formed in the womb. This life is precious because it was given by Him, allowing us to walk alongside Him in His grace. With every breath, we are one step closer to seeing our Savior face to face. We should anticipate that day with hearts full of gratitude, letting that hope fuel our work here on earth.

There will come a point for every believer where the longing ends. We will enter His gates, and every earthly grief will be washed away in unending praise. But in the meantime, we must serve Him with every beat of our hearts, so that when we finally reach our true home, we might hear those desired words: "Well done, good and faithful servant."