2026.09.20 | I Keep Living Like I Have More Time

I do not usually think of myself as someone who is avoiding obedience. I would rather call it being busy, tired, overwhelmed, or just waiting for a better time.

But if I am honest, there are parts of my life where I keep assuming I have more time.

More time to pray for that person.
More time to apologize.
More time to have the hard conversation.
More time to stop doing the thing I already know is sin.
More time to get serious about Scripture again.

And if I bring it even closer to home, I assume I have more time with my family too.

More time to pray with my kids before bed instead of rushing through the routine.
More time to ask my spouse how they are really doing and actually listen.
More time to apologize after I was impatient in the kitchen or sharp in the car.
More time to open the Bible at the table instead of just trying to survive dinner.
More time to speak the gospel into my kids’ fears, questions, and failures.
More time to put my phone down and look someone in the eyes.

On Sunday, when Jeff asked, “If Jesus came back tomorrow, what would you do differently today?” I felt that question land in a pretty specific way.

I immediately thought of a person I have been meaning to reach out to. I thought of prayers I have said I care about, but have not actually prayed with any kind of urgency. I thought of how easily I can give my best energy to temporary things and then give God whatever is left at the end of the day.

But I also thought about my home.

I thought about the way I can be more patient with a coworker than I am with the people under my own roof. I thought about how quickly I can correct my kids, but how slowly I pray with them. I thought about how easy it is to get everyone dressed, fed, buckled, scheduled, and moving, but forget to shepherd their hearts toward Jesus.

I thought about how often I treat family discipleship like something that needs a perfect setup.

A quiet house.
A clean table.
A prepared devotional.
Everyone in a good mood.
No one spilling water or crying over the wrong color cup.

But maybe faithfulness looks much more ordinary than that.

Maybe it looks like praying in the school drop-off line.
Maybe it looks like saying, “I was wrong to respond that way. Will you forgive me?”
Maybe it looks like reading one short passage of Scripture while the breakfast dishes are still on the counter.
Maybe it looks like asking my spouse, “How can I pray for you this week?” and then actually doing it.
Maybe it looks like turning off the show, sitting on the edge of the bed, and listening a little longer.

Matthew 24 does not give me a date to circle. Jesus says no one knows the day or hour. That means I do not get to manage the timing. I do not get to put obedience on my calendar for later and assume everything will work out.

But the sermon did not make me feel hopeless. It made me feel invited.

Jesus is patient. That patience is not something to take advantage of. It is mercy. It is space to repent. It is kindness that meets me today.

I do not think readiness means I need to become intense or strange. I think readiness might look like a few simple, honest things.

Open my Bible before I open the noise.
Pray for people by name.
Apologize without defending myself.
Stop calling sin “a season.”
Serve where Jesus has put me.
Talk about Jesus with someone I love.

And at home, maybe readiness looks like remembering that the people closest to me are not interruptions to my faithfulness. They are often the very place God is calling me to be faithful.

My spouse.
My kids.
My parents.
My siblings.
The family member I avoid because the relationship is complicated.
The child who needs correction, but also tenderness.
The teenager who acts like they are not listening, but probably hears more than I think.

I keep wanting faithfulness to feel dramatic. But Jesus seems to care a lot about servants being found doing what the master gave them to do.

That is what I want.

Not panic.
Not pretending.
Not delayed obedience with religious language around it.

Just faithfulness today because Jesus is coming back.

Faithfulness in prayer.
Faithfulness in repentance.
Faithfulness in the conversations I have been avoiding.
Faithfulness in my living room, at the dinner table, in the bedtime routine, and on the drive to school.

Jesus does not tell me the hour.

But he does give me today.