Wresting with Death, Eternity, and the Fear of Letting Go

Reflections on Chapter Four of The Purpose Driven Life

As I worked through this chapter, titled “Made to Last Forever,” I found myself confronting the fact that I would much rather avoid: the inevitability of death and what lies beyond that point.

If I’m being completely honest, the thought of dying terrifies me, not because of the unknown, but because of what I would have to leave behind.

The Weight of Love and the Fear of Separation

When I think about death, my heart immediately turns toward the people who matter most to me.

My fiancé- the person I’ve chosen to walk through life with, to build dreams alongside, to share both my deepest joys and my greatest fears.

My children- the bond we share, the love that flows between us, the time I spend nurturing and raising them in the way they should go.

My parents- who gave me life, shaped who I am, and continue to be pillars of wisdom and strength.

My siblings and friends- the companions of my childhood, the people who know my story from the beginning and understand me in ways others never could.

These relationships feel too precious, too vital, too unfinished to simply end. The thought that one day I will have to leave them behind- or worse, that they might leave me- breaks my heart and honestly scares me deeply.

This fear isn’t only about my own mortality. It’s about the relationships that define my life, the people who give it meaning and shape my purpose.

How do you reconcile the depth of earthly love with the reality of earthly endings?

How do you face the possibility of separation from the very people who make life worth living?

When This Life Feels Like Everything

Warren opens this chapter with a statement that challenges our most basic assumptions about life:

“This life is not all there is.”

For those of us deeply invested in relationships, dreams, and purpose here on earth, that statement can feel almost dismissive. How can this life, with all of its beauty, love, and significance, be anything less than everything?

When I imagine missing my children’s future milestones, not being present to guid them through challenges, or leaving my fiancé to navigate life alone, the promise of eternity feels abstract and distant by comparison.

When I think about losing my parents’ wisdom or being separated from friends and siblings who have walked with me for decades, eternity can feel like a poor consolation.

But Warren isn’t minimizing the importance of our earthly lives. He’s reframing them.

“Life on Earth i just a dress rehearsal for the real production,” he writes.

He offers an analogy that shapes this a little more gently: just as the months spent in a mother’s womb are not the end, but preparation for life outside, so this life prepares us for the next.

The time in the womb is real, meaningful, and formative but its not the fullness of existence. In the same way, this life, as rich and beautiful as it is, is preparation for something we cannot yet fully imagine.

The Eternal Perspective That Changes Everything

Warren writes, “The closer you live to God, the smaller everything else appears. When you live in the light of eternity, your values change. Your priorities are reordered.”

I struggle with this a little.

I do’t want my love for my family to feel “smaller.” These relationships feel like the most important things in my universe. The idea that growing closer to God might diminish their importance feels threatening rather than comforting.

But Ecclesiastes 3:11 tells us that God “has also put eternity in the human heart.”

Perhaps that explains why death feels so unnatural, why separation hurts so deeply.

We wer designed for forever. The ache we feel at the thought of endings isn’t weakness; it’s recognition of our eternal nature.

Maybe the intensity of our earthly love is actually a glimpse of the eternal love we were created for.

Beyond The Clouds and Harps

Like many people, my mental image of eternity has been shaped more my cartoons than the actual Scriptues.

Warren addresses this directly:

“We won’t lie around on clouds with halos playing harps! We will enjoy unbroken fellowship with God, and He will enjoy us for an unlimited, endless forever.”

Even still, I struggle to fully grasp this concept.

Will my relationship with my fiancé continue in some transformed way?

Will I still be a parent in eternity?

Will my parents still feel like my parents?

Will my siblings and friends still share our unique bond?

Heaven still feels abstract, like a comforting idea rather than a concrete reality that I can trust.

C.S. Lewis captured this tension wonderfully in The Chronicles of Narnia:

“For us this is the end of all stories… but for them it was only the beginning of the real story… which goes on forever, and in which every chapter is better than the one before.”

Death as Transition

Warren makes a crucial distinction:

“Death is not your termination; it is your transition into eternity.”

If that is true, then love, purpose, and relationships are not lost, but transformed.

Scripture reminds us in 1 Corinthians 2:9:

No one has ever seen or heart, or even imagined, what wonderful things God has ready for those who love Him.”

Maybe our fear of death comes from our inability to imagine anything better than what we already know. What if eternity is not the loss of what we love most, but its fulfillment?

A Resource That Helped Me Sit With These Questions

As I’ve been working through these reflections, The Purpose Driven Life has helped ground my thoughts in Scripture rather than fear, it’s invited me to sit with them honestly and gently.

If you’re wanting to through these same thoughts with me you can order your copy of The Purpose Driven Life here!

The Eternal Weight of Daily Choices

This eternal perspective give weight to how we live now.

“There are eternal consequences to everything you do on earth,” Warren writes, to remind us that our lives matter beyond the moment.

How I love my fiancé matters eternally.

How I parent my children matters eternally.

How I honor my parents, serve my friends, and develop my character matters eternally.

The investments we make in love, integrity, and faithfulness are not by death- they are refined and perfect.

What we do here echoes into forever.

The Question That Cuts to the Heart

Warren closes this chapter with a question…

“Since I was made to last forever, what is the one thing I should stop doing and the one thing I should start doing today?”

As I sat with this question many answers surfaced. Habits to release. Practices to adopt. Changes to be made.

But one thing rose above them all:

I need to stop fearing God and begin revering Him.

From Fear to Reverence

Fear creates distance. Reverence creates intimacy.

Fear sees God as a threat to avoid.

Reverence sees God as the source of life to embrace.

My fear of death, my terror at leaving loved ones behind, my struggle to imagine eternity, all of these are rooted in a view of God that is too small.

If I truly believed that the One who loves me more than I love my own children is the One preparing eternity for me, wouldn’t that change everything?

If I trusted that the God who created human love has something even more beautiful prepared for forever, wouldn’t that transform how I live now?

Living in Light of Forever

1 John 2:17 offers this comfort:

“This world is fading away, along with everything it craves. But anyone who does what pleases God will live forever.”

This doesn’t mean loving this life less. It means loving it rightly.

Our earthly relationships are not distractions from eternity. They are glimpses of it. They are preparation, not competition.

As I continue to wrestle with these truths, I’m learning that fear of death is often fear of an incomplete picture of God. The closer I draw to Him the more I can trust that His plans for forever are better than anything I can imagine.

The goal isn’t to detach from this world, but to love it properly- as preparation for something even more wonderful.

The people who matter most to me aren’t obstacles to eternity.

They are part of the eternal story God is writing.

This reflection is part of my 40-day journey through The Purpose Driven Life. You can explore the full series here → Purpose Driven Life Hub

Previous
Previous

Finding Faith in the Face of Rejection

Next
Next

A Coach’s Honest Reflection