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Ecclesiastes 3:11 “He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end."

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Snorkeling is one of those experiences that makes you feel like a kid again. You wade into calm, clear water, and at first, all you can see is the surface. Maybe a few ripples. Maybe your reflection. But then you dip beneath, and it’s a whole new world—schools of fish darting through coral, colors that don’t seem real, silence that somehow sings. It was always there. You just couldn’t see it from above.

That’s how heaven works. Scripture says God has “set eternity in the human heart.” In other words, you were born with a longing for what you can’t yet see. A whisper inside that says there has to be more than this. More than routines, regrets, heartbreak, or hustle. That longing isn’t weakness. It’s a clue. And heaven is the answer.

We live in a world that tries to distract us from that longing. We're told to numb it with entertainment, bury it in productivity, or satisfy it with stuff. But none of it works. Have you ever had a moment right after something amazing—graduation, a wedding, a trip—when you were surprised by a strange sadness? That whisper of, “Was that it?” It’s not ungratefulness. It’s eternity calling. The longing isn't a flaw to fix. It's a hunger meant to lead you home.

This longing runs deeper than curiosity. It’s like walking into a room and feeling something is missing, even when you can’t name it. Like hearing a song and sensing there’s another verse you haven’t heard yet. We ache for the full story, the final chapter, the forever we were made for. And while we try to fill the ache with success, relationships, or experiences, they all fall short. Even the best things in life don’t satisfy forever, because they weren’t designed to. They are appetizers, not the feast.

Scripture says that God put eternity in our hearts. That means there’s a built-in awareness that this life is not all there is. A built-in hope that one day, everything broken will be mended. Everything confusing will be made clear. Everything temporary will give way to something lasting. Even when we don’t have the words for it, our souls know it’s true.

But Solomon, the writer of Ecclesiastes, doesn’t leave it there. He adds, “yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end.” There’s mystery in this too. We sense eternity, but we don’t fully understand it. We crave permanence, but live in a world of constant change. We long for heaven, but only catch glimpses of it in moments of peace, beauty, or love.

That’s not a contradiction. It’s an invitation. We weren’t made to figure out everything. We were made to follow the One who knows the end from the beginning. And that changes how we live. When we realize our lives are part of a much bigger story, it reorders our priorities. It humbles our pride. It anchors our hope.

When you start to see yourself as an eternal being, the pressure to make everything perfect right now begins to fade. You can grieve, but not without hope. You can dream, but not be crushed when things fall short. You can take risks for God’s kingdom, knowing the reward is not just for this life.

Think about this: if you were only visiting a country for a few days, would you spend your time renovating your hotel room? Would you spend all your energy building comfort in a place you were just passing through? No. You’d travel light. You’d focus on the purpose of the trip. You’d keep your eyes on where you’re headed next. That’s how followers of Jesus are called to live. Heaven is home. Earth is the airport.

You weren’t meant to feel completely comfortable here. And that’s actually good news. If everything satisfied you here, you’d never long for the better country God has prepared. The ache in your heart is holy. It reminds you that this life isn’t the end. That’s not something to fix. It’s something to follow.

Heaven isn’t about escaping this life. It’s about fulfilling what this life points toward. Every moment here—every prayer whispered, every act of kindness, every choice to forgive or trust—is shaping something that will last forever. The veil between this world and the next is thin. Sometimes, you can almost feel it. Don’t be surprised when you feel like there’s something missing, even on the best days. Don’t panic when the world disappoints you. Let it point you forward. There is more. And one day, we’ll step into it fully.

Apply

As you move through your day, notice the moments that stir your longing. A moment of beauty. A deep laugh. A quick sadness. Pause and let that moment be a reminder: you were made for eternity. Whisper a prayer of gratitude that this life isn’t all there is—and ask God to help you live like it.

Pray

God, thank you for planting eternity in my heart. I admit I often chase temporary things, hoping they’ll satisfy something only you can fill. Help me pay attention to the longing inside me. Teach me to see this life with forever in mind. Let my daily choices reflect my eternal identity. In Jesus’ name. Amen.