Do Believers in Christ Face Judgement?

Every person has the same simple mark in their story — the dash between the year they were born and the year they die. That tiny line holds an entire lifetime of choices, relationships, and priorities. It’s the space where we laugh, love, work, worship, and worry. It’s everything we do between our first breath and our last.

The Bible tells us that life is like a mist — it appears for a moment and then vanishes. Whether we live for 15 years or 90, our lives are brief in the scope of eternity. But brief doesn’t mean meaningless. In fact, the shortness of life is what gives it such sacred weight. What we do with our “dash” matters forever.

When we measure time, we think in years, months, and days. God sees differently. Scripture says that to Him, “a day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years are like a day.” That means our lives — long or short — fit inside God’s vast and patient plan. He isn’t slow, and He isn’t distracted. He’s mercifully giving the world time to turn toward Him.

This divine patience should awaken gratitude in us. Every new morning is a sign of His mercy — another chance to make our short lives count. Each breath, heartbeat, and sunrise is a quiet invitation: use this moment well.

Think about how quickly a mist disappears when sprayed into the air — visible for a moment, then gone. That’s our life. Or imagine striking a match: it burns bright for a few seconds, then fades to smoke. The question isn’t how long the flame burns but what it illuminates while it does.

If life is short, then everything we do here should echo in eternity. What we invest our time, energy, and resources in today will either fade with the mist or live on forever. Our possessions, positions, and accomplishments don’t last; only people and God’s Word do. When you connect your life to those two things — helping people know God and shaping your heart by His truth — your dash begins to matter beyond this moment.

Jesus told a story about a wealthy farmer whose land produced more than he could store. Instead of asking how he could bless others, he decided to tear down his barns and build bigger ones. His goal was simple: to take life easy, to eat, drink, and be merry. But that very night, his life ended.

It’s a sobering picture. Many of us live the same way — storing, collecting, and expanding while assuming we have time to think about eternal things later. We plan our futures down to the smallest detail but often forget that we can’t plan our final breath. There’s nothing wrong with success or comfort, but there’s danger in believing that comfort is the goal. The truth is, we can’t take our barns with us.

Understanding how brief life is should make us humble. Every heartbeat is a gift, every morning an undeserved mercy. Pride says, “I’m in control.” Humility says, “God has given me another chance.” That posture keeps us grounded, grateful, and open to God’s leading.

But humility alone isn’t enough; we also need precision. If our time is short, we must aim it well. Precision means living intentionally — aligning our words, work, and priorities with what matters most. It means asking hard questions: Is this helping anyone see God more clearly? Does this decision reflect His Word? Am I investing my best energy in things that will last?

The missionary C.T. Studd once wrote, “Only one life, ’twill soon be past; only what’s done for Christ will last.” That truth gives direction to our dash. We aren’t meant to drift; we’re meant to live with focus.

One day, the end will come like a thief in the night. We don’t get to know when or how. That’s not meant to make us fearful but faithful. A wise person lives prepared, not panicked.

Living ready means keeping short accounts with God and others — forgiving quickly, confessing freely, and walking in peace. It means staying close to Jesus so that when our time comes, we’re not caught off guard. The goal isn’t perfection; it’s proximity. To be found “spotless, blameless, and at peace with Him” means to be in right relationship — trusting, surrendered, and full of faith.

Imagine standing before God at the end of your life. What will you hold in your hands? What will you have offered Him from your time on earth? There’s no “do-over” in eternity. Whatever we give Him here — our obedience, generosity, service, and love — becomes our lasting offering there.

That’s why now is the time to live intentionally. Make your faith more than belief; make it a direction. Use your talents to build something that honors God. Let generosity shape your budget, not leftovers. Choose to serve others even when it costs you. Fill your short life with actions that tell the story of a long-lasting faith.

The people who make the greatest impact aren’t always the loudest or the most visible. They’re the ones who quietly live with humility and precision — aware that every word and every act of love ripples beyond the dash.

Living for eternity doesn’t mean ignoring the present. It means living this moment with purpose. When you understand that your dash is short, ordinary things start to matter more. Gratitude grows. Forgiveness comes faster. Worship feels deeper. You realize that even the simplest choices — listening to someone, praying for them, sharing kindness — have eternal weight.

Peace with God begins here, not later. It’s found in surrendering your plans, trusting His timing, and walking with Him daily. You can’t add more time to your dash, but you can fill the time you have with meaning.

Your life may feel long, but in the light of eternity, it’s just a breath. Every day you wake up is another chance to write your story with intention — to fill the dash between your birth and your last breath with what truly lasts.

So live humbly. Live precisely. Live for what will outlive you. Because life is short, eternity is long, and what you do with your dash will echo forever.