"Don't aim at success. The more you aim at it and make it a target, the more you are going to miss it. For success, like happiness, cannot be pursued; it must ensue, and it only does so as the unintended side effect of one's personal dedication to a cause greater than oneself or as the by-product of one's surrender to a person other than oneself. Happiness must happen, and the same holds for success: you have to let it happen by not caring about it. I want you to listen to what your conscience commands you to do and go on to carry it out to the best of your knowledge. Then you will live to see that in the long-run—in the long-run, I say!—success will follow you precisely because you had forgotten to think about it”
ACTS 2:14-47
JOURNAL
Nehemiah faced relentless opposition—not just physical, but psychological. The enemies of the wall tried to wear him down, to distract, manipulate, and intimidate him. But he saw through it. He prayed, “Now strengthen my hands” (Nehemiah 6:9), and refused to hide in fear or act in self-preservation. His discernment, anchored in a greater purpose, kept him moving forward. And in just fifty-two days, against all odds, the wall was completed (Nehemiah 6:15).
What a contrast to the vibrant community described in Acts 2. Instead of fear or manipulation, these early believers lived with sincere hearts, radical generosity, and deep devotion—to God, to one another, and to the mission of Christ. “They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts... And the Lord added to their number daily” (Acts 2:46–47). When the Spirit of God takes root in a people, they become something greater than the sum of their parts—an outpost of Heaven.
That phrase—an outpost of Heaven—has stuck with me. I want my life, my home, my heart to be that. And I’m reminded of Viktor Frankl’s words:
“Don’t aim at success... it must ensue... as the unintended side effect of one’s personal dedication to a cause greater than oneself…”
Frankl survived Auschwitz and wrote Man’s Search for Meaning, a book that pierced my heart at a time when everything felt like it was crumbling—career, marriage, identity. I had chased success, but it only left me emptier. That book, and more importantly, the Spirit of God, began to realign my view of success. I began to see that success isn’t something I could grip tighter. It’s something that follows when I live with purpose, faith, and love.
Paul writes it plainly:
“For the Spirit God gave us does not make us timid, but gives us power, love and self-discipline” (2 Timothy 1:7).
That Spirit frees me. I don’t have to control outcomes. I don’t have to strive for the approval of others or anxiously chase worth. I simply get to show up and give my best—sweeping streets or stewarding influence, it doesn’t matter. The joy is in knowing I am God’s child and doing what He’s asked of me, no matter how “big” or “small” the task looks to the world.
Success is then redefined: it becomes the quiet confidence of knowing I’m walking in obedience. It becomes the peace of surrendering outcomes to my Father. “Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice!... And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 4:4,7).
Today, I’m overwhelmed with gratitude. I have breath in my lungs, a body that moves, people I love, and a Father who knows me fully and loves me completely. That alone is enough to rejoice. So I’ll keep aiming not at success, but at faithfulness. And in doing so, I trust success—in God’s definition—will quietly follow.
PHILIPPIANS 4:4-7
No comments:
Post a Comment