I can’t shake the words from an old hymn I heard again this week, Have I Done My Best for Jesus? written by E. Z. Hopkins:
The hours that I have wasted are so many,
The hours I’ve spent for Christ so few;
Because of all my lack of love for Jesus,
I wonder if His heart is breaking too.
The hours I’ve spent for Christ so few;
Because of all my lack of love for Jesus,
I wonder if His heart is breaking too.
There’s something about those lines that won’t let me go. They sink deep—not with a quick pang of guilt, but with the kind of conviction that makes you sit still for a while and face the truth. I think of all the hours in my life, stacked one on top of another like bricks. How many of those hours have been spent chasing things that don’t matter? How many have I poured into things that will not matter for eternity, while the work of God waited, while souls hung in the balance, while people around me needed the very hope I claim to have?
We always tell ourselves we’re too busy. We’re tired. We need to relax. And yes, rest has its place—but if I’m honest, I have to admit that much of my “rest” is nothing more than distraction. I scroll. I wander. I waste. All the while, there’s a Savior who gave me every moment I have, watching me trade them for things that will vanish like smoke.
And it’s not just about time—it’s about love. That hymn doesn’t say, “Because I had no time for Jesus.” It says, “Because of all my lack of love for Jesus.” That cuts deep. If I truly loved Him more than anything else, wouldn’t it show in how I spend my minutes, my hours, my days? Love naturally rearranges priorities. When you love someone, you don’t have to be begged or reminded to spend time with them—you want to. You find ways to be near them, to serve them, to hear them, to please them.
So why is it so easy to let my love for Jesus grow lukewarm? Why is it so easy to fill my schedule and my mind with everything else? And here’s the thought that haunts me most: does He notice? Does it grieve His heart when I pass Him by, day after day, while claiming to follow Him?
It’s not that He needs me—He is God Almighty. But He loves me. And love feels the sting of neglect. I think about Peter, denying Jesus three times, and the Gospel says Jesus turned and looked at him. That look must have pierced Peter’s heart to the core. And maybe—just maybe—when I live like my love for Him is optional, He turns His eyes toward me in that same way.
We can’t change the hours that are gone. The wasted moments are already written. But we can decide what we’ll do with the next one. And the one after that. Maybe today is the day to set aside something that doesn’t matter and replace it with something that does. Perhaps today is the day to give Him more than a passing nod in the middle of a crowded life.
One day, the hours will be gone. We will stand before Christ Jesus and see His face—no longer a distant thought, but the living God before our very eyes. And I wonder… when that moment comes, will I be glad for how I’ve spent my days? Or will I wish with all my heart that I had loved and served Him more?
RETURN TO ALL BLOGS
We always tell ourselves we’re too busy. We’re tired. We need to relax. And yes, rest has its place—but if I’m honest, I have to admit that much of my “rest” is nothing more than distraction. I scroll. I wander. I waste. All the while, there’s a Savior who gave me every moment I have, watching me trade them for things that will vanish like smoke.
And it’s not just about time—it’s about love. That hymn doesn’t say, “Because I had no time for Jesus.” It says, “Because of all my lack of love for Jesus.” That cuts deep. If I truly loved Him more than anything else, wouldn’t it show in how I spend my minutes, my hours, my days? Love naturally rearranges priorities. When you love someone, you don’t have to be begged or reminded to spend time with them—you want to. You find ways to be near them, to serve them, to hear them, to please them.
So why is it so easy to let my love for Jesus grow lukewarm? Why is it so easy to fill my schedule and my mind with everything else? And here’s the thought that haunts me most: does He notice? Does it grieve His heart when I pass Him by, day after day, while claiming to follow Him?
It’s not that He needs me—He is God Almighty. But He loves me. And love feels the sting of neglect. I think about Peter, denying Jesus three times, and the Gospel says Jesus turned and looked at him. That look must have pierced Peter’s heart to the core. And maybe—just maybe—when I live like my love for Him is optional, He turns His eyes toward me in that same way.
We can’t change the hours that are gone. The wasted moments are already written. But we can decide what we’ll do with the next one. And the one after that. Maybe today is the day to set aside something that doesn’t matter and replace it with something that does. Perhaps today is the day to give Him more than a passing nod in the middle of a crowded life.
One day, the hours will be gone. We will stand before Christ Jesus and see His face—no longer a distant thought, but the living God before our very eyes. And I wonder… when that moment comes, will I be glad for how I’ve spent my days? Or will I wish with all my heart that I had loved and served Him more?
RETURN TO ALL BLOGS
