I’ve been thinking about something lately that has made me a little uncomfortable: I think we often absorb the goals of the culture around us, then ask Jesus to bless them.
I’m 52 years old.
I’m a husband, a father, and I’ve owned a business for more than 20 years. I’ve spent a lot of my adult life doing the things responsible adults are supposed to do.
Work hard. Provide for your family. Build a business. Buy a house. Raise your kids. Save some money. Try to make wise decisions. Hopefully get the house paid off. Put enough away that someday you can retire. Travel a little. Enjoy life. Help your kids get started. Leave something behind.
And here’s the thing:
I don’t think there’s anything inherently wrong with any of that.
I think husbands and fathers should provide for their families. I think working hard is good. I think saving money can be wise. I think enjoying a vacation with your family is a gift. I think having a beautiful home can be wonderful. I think helping your children is good.
But lately I’ve been asking myself a different question.
What if those things quietly became the story of my life, and Jesus became one part of that story?
The Life We’re Supposed to Build
Nobody ever sat me down and handed me a piece of paper titled THE AMERICAN LIFE PLAN.
But somehow most of us know it.
Get educated. Get a good job. Make more money. Buy a starter house. Upgrade the house. Upgrade the car. Build your career. Save. Invest. Protect what you’ve accumulated. Get the kids through school. Pay everything off. Retire. Travel. Enjoy the years you have left. And hopefully die having left your children something.
Again, much of that can be good.
But somewhere along the way, I wonder if we’ve confused a culturally successful life with a biblically faithful life.
Because when I read the words of Jesus, His definition of a successful life feels different.
Jesus talks about things like giving, serving, forgiving, sacrifice, loving your enemies, caring for people who can’t repay you, welcoming outsiders, seeking His Kingdom, losing your life in order to find it, and being faithful with what you’ve been given.
Those are very different measurements.
What If the Ladder Is Leaning Against the Wrong Wall?
Imagine spending your entire life climbing a ladder.
You work hard. You sacrifice. You keep climbing.
Another promotion. Another accomplishment. Another investment. Another upgrade. Another milestone.
You’re exhausted sometimes, but that’s okay because you’re making progress.
Eventually, after decades of climbing, you finally reach the top.
And that’s when you discover something terrifying.
The ladder was leaning against the wrong wall.
You succeeded. But maybe you succeeded at something that was never supposed to be the main thing.
That’s the question that’s been bothering me.
Not: “Am I successful?”
But: “Am I being faithful?”
Those aren’t always the same question.
I Have to Ask This About My Own Life
It’s easy to turn something like this into a sermon about everybody else.
I’d rather not.
Because I’m asking these questions about myself.
I’ve spent more than two decades building a business. Why?
Certainly to provide for my family. That’s good.
But is that all my business is for?
What if God didn’t simply give me a business so I could make money?
What if He also gave me a way to employ people, treat customers honestly, help families, be generous, encourage someone having a terrible week, and fund things that matter beyond myself?
I’ve been blessed with a home. Is the goal simply to own it? Or could my home become hospitality?
I’ve accumulated 52 years of experiences, including some painful ones. Are those simply memories? Or can experience become mentoring?
Can pain become compassion? Can mistakes become wisdom somebody else doesn’t have to learn the hard way? Can creativity become encouragement? Can money become generosity? Can free time become presence? Can influence become service?
Suddenly stewardship looks much bigger than putting money in an offering plate.
It starts to change how I look at everything I have.
Jesus Changes What Matters Most
One of the passages I’ve probably heard hundreds of times is Matthew 6:33:
“Seek the Kingdom of God above all else, and live righteously, and he will give you everything you need.”
Matthew 6:33, NLT
I’ve usually heard that verse by itself.
But read the whole chapter.
Jesus talks about money. Possessions. Giving. Worry. Food. Clothing. Tomorrow.
Basically, many of the same things occupying our minds today.
And He doesn’t tell people that having possessions is evil. He doesn’t condemn planning. He doesn’t say working is wrong.
He changes what comes first.
Seek God’s Kingdom first. Everything else finds its proper place around that.
That’s very different from building the life I want and then asking, “Jesus, would You please bless this?”
Maybe the better prayer is:
“Jesus, You’ve given me this life. What would You like me to do with it?”
That Question Changes Things
Imagine starting there.
Lord, You gave me this money. What should I do with it?
You gave me this house. How could it serve somebody?
You gave me this business. How could it reflect You?
You gave me these experiences. Who could they help?
You gave me these abilities. Who could they encourage?
You gave me today. Who needs me to notice them?
That’s a very different way of living.
And strangely, I don’t think it necessarily means doing more.
For many of us, it might mean doing less.
Owning less. Rushing less. Comparing less. Worrying less about what everybody else thinks. Spending less energy maintaining an image.
And becoming much more available to God and to people.
I’m Starting to Think Retirement Isn’t the Goal Either
At 52, this one gets personal.
I’m at the age where you start doing the math.
How many years until retirement? How much will we need? Will the house be paid off? What will Social Security look like? How much should we save?
Those are responsible questions. I intend to keep asking them.
But I’m starting to question the story underneath them.
Because sometimes retirement gets presented as the great finish line of American life:
Work hard enough now so eventually you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.
I’m not sure I can find that vision in the New Testament.
Maybe the second half of life isn’t supposed to be about becoming less useful.
Maybe it’s when decades of experience finally become something we can pour into somebody else.
Maybe the goal isn’t retirement from purpose.
Maybe it’s greater freedom for purpose.
Maybe We’ve Been Asking the Wrong Question
Most of my life, the question has sounded something like:
How do I build a good life?
I’m starting to think Jesus asks something different:
What does faithfulness look like with the life God has entrusted to me?
That question doesn’t require everyone to sell their house. It doesn’t require quitting your job. It doesn’t mean emptying your retirement account. It doesn’t mean Christians shouldn’t enjoy life.
It means those things stop being the destination.
They become tools. Gifts. Resources. Things temporarily placed in our hands.
Because ultimately, I’m not sure the goal of the Christian life is to build the safest, most comfortable version of our earthly life before we die.
The goal is to become more like Christ and participate in what He’s doing while we’re here.
That’s a very different definition of success.
And at 52, I find myself wondering:
What if I spend the rest of my life climbing a little less and pouring outward a little more?
Maybe that’s what the second act is really about.
LOOK INWARD
Take a few minutes and ask yourself:
What am I currently working hardest to build?
Then ask the harder question:
If I actually get it, will it help me become more faithful to what Jesus has called me to do?
Don’t beat yourself up over the answer. Just be willing to look at it.
LOOK TO SCRIPTURE
Read Matthew 6:19–34 slowly this week.
Don’t read it looking for a rule. Look for what Jesus seems to believe is worth pursuing, what He says isn’t worth worrying about, and where He tells us to place the center of our lives.
Then ask: “Jesus, is there anything I’ve made the main thing that You intended to be a tool?”
CARRY WATER
Choose one thing already in your hands this week and turn it outward.
Not someday. Not when you have more. This week.
Your home. Your money. Your business. Your experience. Your time. Your encouragement. Your creativity. Your attention.
Use one of them to help one person.
It doesn’t have to be big. Nobody needs to post about it. Nobody even needs to know.
Just carry some water to somebody who needs it.
Because maybe the question isn’t how high we climbed. Maybe it’s what we did with what God placed in our hands along the way.