Of all the things I’ll share in this series about what my mom said first, this is probably the one I recycle the most. It’s ironic, because when she first said it to me, I was pissed off. I thought she was dismissing my experience, when in reality, she was depositing a life truth I didn’t yet have the capacity to swallow.
I was in my twenties, frustrated with life. I had a job that had nothing to do with what I studied in college, and I was wholly uninterested in being there. My dilemma wasn’t just the job, it was that I had no idea what came next. I felt like a ball of potential with no outlet, no direction, no map.
One day, while confiding in her, she told me to be patient. “You won’t always be in this place,” my mommy said.“Everything in life is temporary.”
I thought she meant that only the bad parts were temporary. But with time, I learned this principle applies to the good, too.
There’s a Bible story that solidified this truth for me: the story of Joseph the dreamer.
Joseph was beloved by his father and gifted with dreams and divine interpretation. His favor stirred jealousy in his brothers, who eventually sold him into slavery. He ends up far from home in Egypt, where his life unfolds in both suffering and triumph.
Through every turn, God remains with him.
Joseph’s gift makes room for him in Pharaoh’s palace. He becomes a leader, a provider, and a vessel of salvation. He goes on to be a major blessing to Egypt by interpreting a dream of the pharaoh that was a warning about an upcoming famine.This leads Joseph to be appointed to the most powerful person in Egypt outside of pharaoh. His promotion allows him to be a blessing to the family that sold him and a place of refuge for his people in a time of famine in the land. Joseph is a blessing and a hero to both Egypt and his family, the Israelites. But then comes Exodus 1:6–8:
6 Now Joseph and all his brothers and all that generation died,
7 but the Israelites were exceedingly fruitful…
8 Then a new king, to whom Joseph meant nothing, came to power in Egypt.
Isn’t that wild? A man who once held Egypt together through famine, who was second only to Pharaoh himself, eventually meant nothing. If you read on in Exodus you learn that the very land that was once a place of refuge for Joseph’s people became their place of captivity as the new pharaoh enslaves them.
Every single time I read that passage, I’m reminded that life has always shown us: Everything is temporary.
The high moments. The low ones. The positions of power. The seasons of invisibility.
Favor and famine. Victory and loss. Everything shifts. That’s not something to fear.
It’s something to know; so you can hold life, success, pain, and even yourself with open hands.
Maybe I preach this particular life lesson from my mom the most because I feel it the most. When you’re young, moving through childhood and adolescence, it’s easy to look forward, to believe there’s so much life ahead of you. Thats why many teenagers feel they are invincible. It’s like you taste the power of the future and just know there is so much life for you to live carefree.
However, somewhere in adulthood, that perspective changes. You realize the only time you were truly carefree… was back then. While you sit with that revelation, you also realize: That time? It will never come again. Because everything in life is temporary; including the very moment and season you’re in right now.
I think about how a life with no bills was temporary—and I didn’t even know it.
The childhood bullies who made me self conscious? Temporary.
Some friendships I thought would last forever? Temporary.
My time in college, where so much of me was shaped? Temporary.
Those late nights with girlfriends that nourished my soul? Temporary.
The anxiety at work? Temporary.
The early stages of business? Temporary.
The transitions—single, dating, married, new parent? All temporary.
Motherhood has really given me a visual of what passing time looks like. When I observe my toddler void of the baby fat running on the playground, the baby whose nutrient source I once was or the little girl who clung to me and wouldn’t go play doesn’t seem too far away. In my memory I can touch her like I can touch the excitement of the senior in high school I once was.
It is a gift to be alive. To remember. To create new memories. I think about this truth whenever I get stuck, doubtful, intimidated, fearful or when I hold back for no good reason.
I think about the people who were once here… and aren’t anymore.
Even life itself is temporary.
So we might as well live through each day with everything we have!
Whether that day is beautiful or brutal. Because this, too, will pass.
The sacred blessing is that it happened at all.
