I am hard pressed between the two. My desire is to depart and be with Christ, for that is far better. But to remain in the flesh is more necessary on your account.

Philippians 1:23-24

Over the weekend, Patrina and I listened to a podcast conversation with Ben Sasse. Just a few weeks ago, he was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. The prognosis is not encouraging. The cancer has spread to his spine and other organs, including his kidneys and liver.

And yet, what stood out wasn’t despair—it was clarity.

He spoke honestly about the seriousness of his condition, but even more about his desire to redeem whatever time he has left. Despite an intense chemotherapy protocol, he is intentionally focusing on what matters most: his faith and his family. He spoke with passion about wanting to invest deeply in his fourteen-year-old son.

It’s amazing how a diagnosis like that has a way of clearing away the noise.

It reminds me of Paul’s words in Philippians 1:23–24. Paul acknowledged that being with Christ would be “far better.” His hope in eternity was secure. But he also recognized that remaining here—continuing to live—meant serving and strengthening others. So while imprisoned, he didn’t waste his days. He wrote letters. He encouraged churches. He poured himself out for the believers scattered throughout the Roman Empire.

I’m convinced Paul made every moment count—not because he knew exactly how much time he had left, but because he understood why he was still here.

Listening to that conversation made me pause and ask myself: what keeps us from living that way now?

Why does it sometimes take a dire diagnosis to sharpen our priorities? Why do we wait for urgency before we choose intentionality?

Most of us haven’t received devastating medical news. But none of us are promised tomorrow. The truth is, our time has always been limited—we just don’t always feel it.

The encouraging part is this: we don’t need a crisis to start redeeming the time. If we truly believe in our future eternity with Christ, then we are free to use our days not chasing what fades, but building what lasts.

So maybe the better question isn’t, “Would we respond differently if we received a dire diagnosis?”

Maybe it’s this: What would change if we lived as though our time is already a gift—and treated it that way?