Recently, my youngest son kept asking me to play him one-on-one in basketball. I finally acquiesced and accepted his offer. Knowing that all dads eventually will be bested by their sons as they grow bigger and faster (while we dads grow older & slower), I determined that this would not be the time that he would be able to beat me.
I did everything I could to beat him: I used my bigger body to get in the paint, I used the traditional “sky-hook (he laughed at me),” I tried my trusty jump shot at the corner of the free-throw which failed me spectacularly. When it came down to it, he is just too good of an outside shooter and I am too out of shape. The result is that he bested me in a game of one-on-one. All of my boys can now beat me at multiple sports!
This episode reminded me of a statistic that I heard the other day – “10 out of 10 people die.” Yes, I chuckled when I heard that just like you might have. Just as it was inevitable that my youngest would beat me in a game of basketball, it is inevitable that you will die someday. You might die tomorrow. You might die ten years from now. Or you might die at the average age of an American citizen (which currently is 78.74 years). Either way, I guarantee one thing. You will die.
And then…you will realize that there is so much more than this life. Dr. Randy Alcorn, in his book The Treasure Principle, relayed a powerful illustration that I will never forget. He likened this entire life on earth to a dot and eternity to a line. He stated that most people live for the dot and hardly think about the line. He encouraged his readers to “live for the line, not the dot.” I tend to believe he couldn’t be more right. Why? Because 10 out of 10 people die. That means you will die.
Scripture asks a thought-provoking question, “What does it profit a man if he gain the whole world and lose his own soul?” It is one thing to lose a basketball game to your youngest son and lose bragging rights; it’s an entirely different thing to lose your soul because all you focused on was the dot (this life).
Oh, one more thing – my son still hasn’t beat me in Words With Friends, but I’m sure it’s just a matter of time!
spiritually relevant 
I remember when my son grew taller and stronger than me. On one hand it was humbling. But on the other, it filled me with a sense of pride. It is after all, part of God’s design.