This Too Shall Pass

💬 Quote

“May we live through what is temporary without losing what is eternal.”

(from the prayer of the day for November 16, 2025, sundaysandseasons.com)

🌿 Reflection

Some days the whole world feels like it is tilting. The news crackles with conflict and upheaval, institutions we trusted show their fractures, communities feel fragile, even our own bodies and moods and relationships shift beneath our feet. It can feel as if nothing is truly solid, as if everything we leaned on is suddenly at risk of falling away.

Jesus understood this feeling. When his friends marveled at the beauty and grandeur of the temple, he did not reassure them that it would stand forever. He told them the truth. Not one stone would be left on another. The building that held their identity, their security, their sense of God’s nearness, would one day crumble. It was not cruelty. It was clarity. He was not trying to scare them. He was trying to free them.

We all have temples. Some are made of stone and stained glass. Others are built of achievement, reputation, family roles, health, youth, financial security, theological certainty, the story we tell ourselves about who we are. These things are not bad. Many of them are gifts. But they are not eternal. They are not God. And sooner or later, something begins to shake. A diagnosis, a loss, a betrayal, a change in calling, a truth we did not want to face. A stone comes loose in the wall.

There is always a threshold in that moment. On one side is the life we have known, the structures that kept us oriented, the familiar patterns that told us who we were. On the other side is a future we cannot yet see, a self still being born, a faith that may be truer but feels less certain. Part of us wants to cling desperately to the old temple. Part of us longs to step into the open space and breathe. It is no small thing that Jesus says in that place, do not be terrified. You will hear of wars and rumors of wars. You will be handed over, misunderstood, shaken. And yet, by your endurance you will gain your souls.

Endurance in the way of Christ is not grim survival or spiritual stoicism. It is the daily choice to stay close to what is eternal while everything temporary moves and changes around us. The sun that burns away what cannot last is also the sun that rises with healing in its wings. As lesser securities fall, something deeper is revealed. Underneath the rubble of all our collapsing temples is the steady ground of God’s love, which does not crack. The quiet righteousness of God’s heart, which does not tilt. The patient mercy and justice that do not depend on our performance, our image, or our control.

To live through what is temporary without losing what is eternal is to remember, again and again, what cannot be taken from you. No disappointment or diagnosis can remove the image of God in you. No betrayal can erase the truth of your beloved-ness. No shifting circumstance can cancel the call to love your neighbor, to act with kindness, to tell the truth, to show compassion, to seek justice, to forgive as you are able, to walk humbly with the One who walks with you. When you choose these things, even in small and halting ways, you are standing where the temple once stood, on ground that seems empty and yet is holy, and you are discovering that God is still there.

So when life feels unsteady, when the stones begin to loosen, you do not have to pretend that nothing is happening. You are allowed to grieve what is falling. You are allowed to be afraid. But you are also invited to listen for a deeper promise. The temples may fall. The news may roar. Your own plans and identities may crack and shift. But the love of God will not fall. The mercy of Christ will not crack. The Spirit’s presence will not leave. Right there, in the dust and the light and the ache, something eternal is holding you.

🕊 Practice

Take a quiet moment today and gently name one “temple” in your life that feels unsteady right now. It might be a role, a relationship, a plan, or a way you have seen yourself. Without judging or fixing, simply admit to God that it feels shaky and that you are afraid of what might fall. Then, ask this simple question: “In the middle of this, what is eternal that I do not want to lose?” Wait and notice what rises in your heart. Perhaps it is love, honesty, compassion, courage, mercy, justice, or trust. Before you move on with your day, choose one small, concrete way to live that eternal thing for someone, or for yourself, before the day is over. Let that act, however simple, be your quiet way of gaining your soul.