Living Beyond Expiration Date
“You make known to me the path of life; you will fill me with joy in your presence, with eternal pleasures at your right hand” (Ps. 16:11).
Everything in this world has an expiration date. Milk in the refrigerator has a stamped deadline. Contracts, licenses, and subscriptions all eventually expire. Even our relationships, roles, and opportunities are bounded by time. Whether we like it or not, we live in a world marked by limits. But this temporal structure is not just a practical inconvenience; it reveals a deeper theological truth—everything in this fallen creation is temporary. The Apostle Paul writes, “What is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal” (2 Cor. 4:18). The visible world around us, as tangible and urgent as it may seem, is passing away. Yet, we often live as if the opposite were true.
Many people live with a temporal mindset—as if this world is the final destination. They strive for wealth, beauty, power, and comfort, chasing after what is visible, measurable, and immediate. These pursuits are not necessarily evil, but when treated as ultimate goals, they distort our understanding of what matters most.
This worldly orientation reflects a kind of spiritual nearsightedness. Instead of seeing life as preparation for eternity, we settle for building temporary kingdoms. But the Apostle John warns, “The world and its desires pass away, but whoever does the will of God lives forever” (1 John 2:17). To live for what is passing is to invest in what will not last.
Scripture calls believers to adopt a radically different perspective—an eternal one. Peter describes Christians as “strangers” and “exiles” in this world (1 Pet. 1:1; 2:11). This language is not poetic sentiment; it is theological identity. We are pilgrims traveling through a land that is not our true home.
This shift in vision—from temporal to eternal—reorients how we live. It affects what we value, how we spend our time, and how we endure suffering. As Paul reminds the Philippians, “Our citizenship is in heaven. And we eagerly await a Savior from there, the Lord Jesus Christ” (Phil. 3:20). We are not residents building permanent foundations in a crumbling world, but citizens awaiting the fullness of a kingdom that cannot be shaken.
Here lies one of the great spiritual tragedies of our time: we attempt to satisfy eternal hunger with things that expire. We look for meaning in titles, purpose in possessions, and joy in temporary pleasures. But these created things, however good, are finite. They were never meant to satisfy what is eternal in us. What happens to your body when you consume expired food? It can make you sick—what once nourished now harms. In the same way, what happens when you cling to an expired contract? You may find yourself bound to something that no longer holds life or legitimacy, suffering unnecessary consequences for refusing to let go.
As those made in the image of God (Gen. 1:26–27), we carry within us a capacity for communion with the eternal. That means only the eternal God can fully satisfy the longings of our soul. When we turn to worldly things for fulfillment, we are like those described in Jeremiah: “My people have committed two sins: they have forsaken me, the spring of living water, and have dug their own cisterns, broken cisterns that cannot hold water” (Jer. 2:13). This is why no amount of success or security ever seems enough. When we drink from wells that run dry, we are left thirsty again. The hunger returns. The restlessness remains. Augustine put it best: “You have made us for yourself, O Lord, and our hearts are restless until they rest in you.”
In contrast to all that expires, God alone is eternal. Psalmist writes, “Before the mountains were born or you brought forth the whole world, from everlasting to everlasting you are God” (Ps. 90:2). God’s character does not change. His presence does not fade. His joy does not spoil. God’s word also endures forever: “The grass withers and the flowers fall, but the word of our God endures forever” (Isa. 40:8). His promises remain binding, his truth penetrates all generations, and his gospel never expires. The joy he offers is not like food that spoils or policy that lapses. It is eternal pleasure at his right hand (Ps. 16:11).
Yet while God is eternal, we are not. At least not in this present form. James repeatedly reminds us that life is brief—“a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes” (James 4:14). Our opportunity to respond to God’s invitation is limited. We are not promised tomorrow. This is why the writer of Hebrews urges us: “Today, if you hear his voice, do not harden your hearts” (Heb. 3:15). God’s promises are always available, but we may not be. The gospel is always powerful, but our window to respond may be brief. Wisdom means seizing the eternal while we still dwell in the temporal realm.
Then, what does it mean to live with an eternal perspective? It means investing in what lasts—faith, love, truth, people’s lives. It means loosening our grip on the things that perish—comfort, ego, comparison, greed, pleasure, and possessions. It means aligning our lives with God’s kingdom, where moth and rust do not destroy and where thieves do not break in and steal (Matt. 6:19–21). It is to uphold God’s values and practice his ethics. It means waking up each day and asking: “Am I living for what will matter ten thousand years from now?”
Have you ever felt that deep, indescribable joy after participating in worship or spending time reading and meditating on Scripture? Have you experienced that quiet satisfaction after helping someone in need and seeing gratitude reflected in their eyes? Have you sensed an unexpected peace when you shared your resources, and others received them with appreciation? These moments are not merely emotional—they are glimpses of what it means to nourish the spirit with what truly matters and lasts. This is the kind of nourishment that does not expire, because it is rooted in the eternal.
We were not made for things that expire. We were made by God, for God, and in the image of God. Our deepest hunger is for him. Our greatest joy is found in him. His love, his presence, his truth—these are the only things that will never expire.
Let us not spend our lives buying bread that does not satisfy or building on foundations that cannot last. Instead, let us seek the One whose promises are eternal, whose kingdom is unshakable, and whose joy never fades.
Reflection Questions
Am I building my life on things that will eventually expire?
Where am I seeking satisfaction from sources that cannot last?
How can I reorient my life today to reflect eternal values?