My mom’s body laid flat on the hospital-style bed in her bedroom. My dad, sister, and I removed her soiled clothes and put clean ones onto her lifeless body. That was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Her frail frame felt unexpectedly heavy—heavy in my arms, heavy in my soul. Then we waited for her body to be picked up.

Eventually, two men arrived. But they came earlier than we had anticipated, so we asked for more time. Don’t take her. Not yet. We’re not ready.

They kindly came back a few hours later, wrapped her in a black bag and carried my mom’s body out the front door. Just like that, gone. We stood in the entryway for who knows how long hugging, sobbing, clinging onto each other.

Throughout his whole letter, James has been instructing his readers to live out their faith—and he’s been especially concerned with how they do that in suffering. Look back to the very first verse of this book. James writes to Jewish believers scattered around the world (“the twelve tribes in the Dispersion”). They’re dealing with persecution and long to one day experience the restoration God promised. But in the meantime, first century life has been hard, especially as followers of Christ.

They’re also navigating divisions within the Church, divisions between Jew and Gentile, rich and poor, honored and lowly. In the middle of all of this, James calls them to a life that reflects the kingdom and the character of God. We’ve seen the practical exhortations he’s given like avoiding partiality, watching their speech, submitting desires to God, and not putting their trust in plans or possessions. Then, we reach the end of his letter, which offers a fitting conclusion to all he’s instructed God’s people to do thus far: 1) pray and 2) help one another live out the truth.

I think we can all understand this passage better after the events of 2020. We’re more aware now than we were a few months ago that our plans are not secure. Our control is an illusion, our life a mist. We truly do not know what tomorrow will bring, as James reminds us.

That may be the understatement of the year.

Right before this passage, James warned against worldliness. He reminded us that we are prone to arrogance and pride. We’re selfish and eager to spend what we’ve been given on our own passions (James 4:2-3). Instead, we’re meant to draw near to God in humble repentance (verses 6-10). Arrogance and pride are antithetical to kingdom living.

When I started this series, it didn’t occur to me that I’d be writing about fights, quarrels, taming the tongue, and similar subjects during such a tense, chaotic year. I spent time studying the book of James earlier in the year, and I wanted to dive deeper into it. It’s practical, convicting, and essential for the Church. But I did not realize from the outset how relevant and how personally convicting this short book would be. Honestly, if I knew how much I’d have to wrestle with James’ words in my own life and the responsibility of sharing them on my blog, I’m not sure I would have undertaken this project.

Thankfully, God knew I needed this, and it’s sure been a humbling process. I found that to be especially true as I studied this section.