Why the Brevity of Life is a Call to Courage
Five years ago, I wrote about the brevity of life. At the time, we were in the middle of a global pandemic, and the lessons I had learned through the life and loss of my daughter, Tori, felt more relevant than ever.
But looking back at those words from the vantage point of 2026, I realize that recognizing our mortality isn’t just about finding personal peace. It is about finding the courage to act while we still have the time.
The 100-Year Window
If we are lucky, we get about 100 years on this earth.
That’s roughly 5,200 weeks. 36,500 days.
When you frame a life that way, the busy rushing of our culture starts to look less like productivity and more like a tragic waste of a finite resource. Most of us live in default mode, letting our time be dictated by the loudest voices in the room, the most recent outrage on our screens, or the fear of what others might think.
But it doesn’t have to be this way.
Moses prayed, “Teach us to realize the brevity of life, so that we may grow in wisdom” (Psalm 90:12). That wisdom isn’t just for our private lives; it’s for our boardrooms, our state capitols, and our communities. It’s the wisdom that recognizes we have a very specific role to play in the history of our country, and we don’t have forever to get it right.
The Myth of Insignificance
The two greatest thieves of this 100-year stewardship are the feeling that we don’t matter and the pull of partisan tribalism.
We often stay silent because we think our single voice won’t change the tide. But I have seen firsthand—through a life that lasted only nineteen months—that scale has nothing to do with impact. Tori’s life was a vapor, yet it moved mountains and changed laws.
If a child who never spoke a word can reform a system, none of us can claim the excuse of being too small to matter.
Your voice is a thread in the tapestry of your community. If you pull it back because you’re afraid or too busy, the whole fabric suffers.
Choosing Principles Over Teams
The other distraction is partisanship. We stay silent about things we know are wrong because our identity is wrapped up in the party we affiliate with; therefore, criticism of policy or actions feels like criticism of ourselves.
But standing at the end of that 100-year window, no one is going to wish they had been more loyal to a political party. We will wish we had been more loyal to the truth.
When we prioritize our political party over what is right, we are giving away our stewardship to people who don’t know our names and won’t carry our legacy.
Courage is simply the practical application of knowing your time is short.
If this life is a mist, then the fear of being canceled or making a room uncomfortable loses its power.
The Brevity of Life Empowers Us
We are currently living in a season where the foundations of our country and our communities are being tested. It is far easier to shore up a foundation while the house is still standing than it is to sift through the rubble later.
Now is the time to allow the brevity of life to empower us.
- It’s time to speak up in that meeting.
- It’s time to advocate for the vulnerable, even when it’s politically inconvenient.
- It’s time to collaborate with the other side to fix what is broken.
We don’t have forever to be brave. We have right now.
Let’s stop living like we have a thousand years to finally do what’s right. Let’s recognize the vapor for what it is—a gift, a responsibility, and a call to courage.
The time to build the blueprint is now.
My new book, A Brighter Blueprint: The Twelve Threads of Effective Advocacy, can help you build courage and resilience as you strive to make the world a better place.
Even So, Joy 
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