Success Redefined: Living by the Spirit, Not by the Spotlight Beyond What the Eye Can See
We’ve all heard it before: every person you meet teaches you a lesson. It’s a cliché, but it’s true. Yet, the most beautiful people I’ve encountered didn’t just teach me a lesson; their lives made me believe that God is real.
These people didn’t part seas, walk on water, or build grand temples. They weren’t rich, and they didn’t miraculously heal from their illnesses. They weren’t famous or sought after, far from the spotlight and applause. They lived simply, away from comfort, yet their quiet faith each day made me believe, “He’s real.” They lived by faith, prayed relentlessly, and loved others without expecting anything in return.
In a world that values people based on their popularity, wealth, or achievements, these individuals go unnoticed. But what if success were measured by those who spread love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control? Would we see more truly “successful” people?
We live in a time, just as the Bible warns, where people are "lovers of themselves, lovers of money, boastful, proud, abusive, disobedient to their parents, ungrateful, unholy, without love, unforgiving, slanderous, without self-control, brutal, not lovers of the good, treacherous, rash, conceited, lovers of pleasure rather than lovers of God—having a form of godliness but denying its power." We are told to have nothing to do with such people.
Have you noticed how today, the more you show off your good deeds, the more you are celebrated? Even though doing good should be the norm. Have you noticed how, in ministry, the more disciples you have, the more "fruitful" you are considered? We often measure success by what we achieve, by the works of our hands, by numbers, and by visibility.
Even in the church, we sometimes overlook the work of the Spirit. We lean on our own abilities—our minds, our problem-solving skills, our initiatives—to shape plans based on what we think is best.
But what if true fruitfulness isn’t measured by the size of our offerings, the loudness of our labor, the followers we’ve gained, the blessings we’ve received, or the ministries we’ve built?
What if true fruitfulness is seen in the quiet struggles where we still hold on to peace? In the silent prayers that overflow with joy? In the loud arguments where we still choose gentleness and honor others? In moments of temptation when we still choose self-control? In being unnoticed, yet patiently enduring delays and hardships?
What if true fruitfulness is found in weariness and hopelesness, but still trusting, persevering, hoping, and loving?
