Why all the things you worry about don't matter (A Catholic Perspective)

I was mindlessly scrolling through my phone calendar the other day, trying to plan my week, when something made me keep going. 2025... 2030... 2045... all the way to 2099. My thumb just kept flicking forward through empty squares that represent years I might never see.

Then it hit me like cold water: one of those dates will be my last.

In those years I was scrolling through, everything is going to happen. I'll meet someone whose laugh makes me understand why it never worked out with anyone else. I'll stand at an altar promising forever to another person while my hands shake with joy and terror. I'll hold my first child and cry because I finally understand what people mean when they say love changes you at the fundamental level.

i'll have days when i feel unstoppable and days when getting out of bed feels impossible. i'll bury people i love before i'm ready. i'll watch my children take their first steps and graduate and break my heart by growing up too fast.

But here's what gutted me: I'm not even guaranteed tomorrow, let alone decades of calendar squares. A phone call could change everything. A test result. A car that runs a red light. In an instant, all those future dates could become meaningless.

And yet here I am, burning myself out over things that won't matter when I'm taking my last breath.

i stress about deadlines like they're life-or-death. i replay arguments that happened three years ago. i refresh message feeds looking for validation from strangers. i lose sleep over useless stuff, over what people think, over whether i'm successful enough, pretty enough, good enough. meanwhile, the only thing that's actually guaranteed is that none of this will last.

The saints knew this. St. Thérèse called life "a night spent in an uncomfortable inn." Not because it's meaningless, but because it's temporary. They lived with death as a companion, not an enemy—it clarified everything.

There's only one thing that doesn't fade when everything else crumbles: the state of my soul when I stand before God.

Not my bank account. Not my achievements. Not how many people liked my posts or remembered my name. Just this: Did I love well? Did I surrender completely? Did I chase after Jesus like my life depended on it?

Because it does.

So what do I do with today? I stop pretending I'm in control. I quit hoarding my time and energy for a future that might never come. I love recklessly. I forgive quickly. I pray like I mean it. I waste less time on things that don't matter and pour myself out for things that do.

When my last calendar square finally arrives, I want to meet God with empty hands and a full heart, knowing I held nothing back.

Everything else is just noise.