“If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world.”
— C.S. Lewis
There comes a moment in every reflective life when the world, for all its beauty and noise, quietly confesses its limits. Achievements lose their shine. Approval fades. Even our deepest joys feel fragile, as if they were never meant to last in their current form.
This is not a failure of life—it is life speaking honestly.
Our time here on earth is limited, and it is meant to be so. If this world were capable of fully satisfying the soul, we would never lift our eyes upward. Eternity would have no pull. God would become unnecessary. Instead, we are given a life that is rich, meaningful, and incomplete by design—an invitation rather than a conclusion.
The apostle Paul tells us:
“For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.”
— 2 Corinthians 4:17–18
What feels heavy here is light when held against eternity. What feels permanent is momentary when measured by God’s timeline. The unfinished nature of life is not a defect; it is evidence that our eyes were meant to look beyond what can be touched and measured.
We strive, not because perfection is possible here, but because direction matters. Every act of love, every step toward humility, every moment of surrender draws us closer to God. The upward striving is not about earning favor, but about aligning the heart with its true home.
And perhaps the greatest miracle is this: we are conscious at all.
To be aware—to experience thought, emotion, memory, love, and longing—cannot be explained away as mere biology. Consciousness is the quiet evidence of eternity brushing against time. It is as though God placed a window within us, allowing us to sense what lies beyond form and decay.
This awareness reminds us that we are more than bodies moving through space. We are souls briefly clothed in matter, capable of recognizing beauty, truth, and God Himself. Our very ability to long for more is proof that more exists.
So when the world feels like it is not enough, do not despair. Let it do its work. Let the dissatisfaction soften you rather than harden you. Let it turn your gaze heavenward.
This life is not the destination—it is the awakening.
And the longing you feel is not emptiness.
It is remembrance.
