10/12/2026
At the ripe old age of 50, I’m finally starting to recognize just how much time I’ve spent chasing things that never really mattered.
For so much of my life, I chased earthly possessions, convincing myself that the next purchase, the next upgrade, or the next shiny new thing would somehow fill a void inside me that I couldn’t quite explain.
And for a moment, maybe it did. But that feeling never lasted.
Before long, I was chasing something else. Something bigger, better, newer. An endless cycle of wanting, buying, enjoying, and eventually wanting again.
Looking back now, I realize those things weren’t filling the void. They were simply distracting me from discovering what was missing in the first place.
And that’s a hard realization to come to at 50.
Because now, instead of chasing possessions, I find myself chasing something I can never buy more of.
Time.
Time to make memories and time to do the things that actually matter, before I can’t anymore…
And sometimes, if I’m being completely transparent, it hurts.
It hurts knowing how much of my younger years I spent collecting things that now sit in storage in my basement, while the opportunities to make certain memories have come and gone forever.
But here’s what I’m beginning to understand.
The void I spent half my life trying to fill with possessions could have been filled all along with something that costs absolutely nothing.
Love.
Kindness.
Compassion.
And living a life that makes the Lord proud, not because He had to nudge me in the right direction, but because I finally learned to choose that direction on my own.
I truly believe we’re here to learn how to love one another. To learn kindness, forgiveness, and compassion. Not simply because we’re told to, but because those things have become part of who we are.
To help someone who’s struggling. To show kindness to a complete stranger. To make someone feel seen when the rest of the world seems to look right through them.
And most importantly, to do those things when nobody is watching.
Now, that last part is much harder than it sounds.
Helping someone is easy. Showing kindness is easy. But doing something good and never telling another soul about it? Never looking for a pat on the back? Never wanting someone to say, “You’re such a good person”?
That’s where the real struggle begins.
Because there’s a part of us, or at least a part of me, that wants recognition. That little darkness in the heart that whispers, “Tell somebody what you did. Let them see the good in you.”
And learning to silence that voice might be one of the hardest lessons I’ve ever faced.
But I’m discovering something beautiful in that struggle.
When you do something good for someone and walk away knowing that only you, that person, and the Lord may ever know about it, there’s a peace that comes with it that no material possession has ever given me.
A feeling of being whole.
And maybe, just maybe, that’s what I’ve been searching for all these years.
I’m not trying to preach to anyone. Lord knows I’ve got more than enough work left to do on myself. LOL.
I’m simply sharing something that’s been weighing heavily on my heart lately.
The realization that I’ve spent so much of my life investing in things that aren’t truly important, while the things that are important have been right in front of me all along.
Happiness isn’t that PS5, that fast car, that new computer, or the third motorcycle sitting in the garage.
Those things can bring enjoyment, sure. But enjoyment and fulfillment are two very different things.
Real happiness is sitting with the people you love and being completely present.
It’s noticing when a friend is struggling and reaching out before they ever have to ask.
It’s taking your wife or husband on a vacation, not because it’s somewhere you’ve always wanted to go, but because it’s somewhere they’ve always dreamed of going. And being just as excited to be there because their happiness means more to you than the destination itself.
It’s making a stranger smile when they’re having a terrible day.
It’s giving someone your time when you could have spent it doing something for yourself.
It’s making another human being feel like they matter.
Because they do. Every single one of them.
And the most beautiful part of all of it?
Doing these things without ever needing the world to know you did them.
No applause. No recognition. No acknowledgment. No story to tell later about how good of a person you were.
Just a quiet moment between you, your heart, and the Lord.
I’m 50 years old, and I certainly don’t have life figured out. In fact, the older I get, the more I realize how much I still have to learn.
But I do know this.
I can’t go back and reclaim the years I’ve wasted chasing things. I can’t buy back the moments I’ve missed or the memories I never made.
But I can choose what I do with the time I have left.
And I don’t want to spend the rest of my life filling shelves, garages, and storage rooms with things that will eventually mean nothing.
I want to fill hearts. I want to make memories. I want to leave people feeling better than they did before our paths crossed.
And when my time here is finally over, I don’t want to be remembered for what I owned.
I want to be remembered for how I loved.
Maybe that’s what being rich really means.
And maybe the greatest reward of all is doing enough good in this world that you never have to tell anyone about it.
Because the Lord already knows.
