“The grass withers, the flower fades, but the word of our God stands forever.”
Isaiah 40:8
I’ve shared before that my family and I moved in the middle of my 9th-grade year of high school. At the time, it was awful. I couldn’t imagine enduring a more terrible thing. My world was upside down, and I was unable to understand why. I knew the direct cause, but it was hard to put into words the feelings a high school freshman has when faced with starting over in a new town. The best way to describe it was that a seismic shift happened in the deep recesses of my soul, and all I could do was try my best to live in the new reality. That new reality meant: Different friends. Different home. Different school. Different football team. Different. Different. Different. And, to me, different meant hard. Not easy.
Whether it’s relationships, job positions, health issues, world-altering events, and more, we’ve all faced, are facing, and will face seismic shifts of the unexpected in our lives. Indeed, every human encounters different circumstances that likewise compel us to leadership. The hard ones, on the other hand, are when we’re facing down change and “different” as a result of evil rearing its ugly head. It’s when we try to process the assassination of Charlie Kirk. The shootings and stabbings in schools, churches, and streets. The merciless bombings, airplane missiles into buildings, and so much more. It’s not only leadership in the moments of change that occur in our lives, like my example of moving to a new town, but also leadership in moments of evil that I want to address in this article.
Let’s begin…
First, when instability hits us, we lead ourselves by speaking truth, not lies. We choose to watch and listen to things that uplift and focus our attention on God and His kingdom. We stay aware but not consumed with the matters at hand. Second, we lead others—our friends, families, co-workers, church-members, and more. We offer a listening and understanding ear. We wisely speak words of encouragement, comfort, and inspiration aligned with God’s Word. Finally, we all align our thinking, feeling, and choosing hearts, minds, and choices to the gospel of Jesus Christ. Christ’s life, death, and resurrection not only offer us grace by faith but also grace to flourish. The only supernatural resource to accomplish supernatural things in a natural world is grace. And grace flows to the humble who look to Christ in faith. It’s that humility that I want to tap here…
How do we maintain, as Christians, this type of humility that receives God’s grace in faith when we see evil or face change in our lives?
I will argue that humility is deeply cultivated within a Christian through a solid grasp of their own and others’ fragility and the sheer futility of things. In other words, our humility as Christians is directly related to the depth of understanding our fragility and the futility of things.
Fragility
Let’s start with a definition. What is fragility? It’s an odd word, but I frame it simply as having a quality that doesn’t last. In other words, to be fragile is to break.
Now, when we apply that to our lives and the lives of those we love and respect, it’s hard. In fact, it’s a topic we often avoid. What do I mean? Well, in reality, we don’t like to think we have limitations. Think about a child. When a child looks up at their strong daddy, they see an invincible man who could beat anybody up. Think about an NFL football player in their rookie year. The thought of retirement and being pushed around in a wheelchair is the furthest thing from their mind. Why? In either case, they, because of life experiences, either avoid the idea of fragility or blindly live as if it’s not true. Either way, to say or think that we aren’t fragile is no different than a kid who covers his eyes and believes the person in front of him has disappeared.
The older we get, the more we realize how fragile we really are. It’s a surgery to remind us. It’s a sharp back pain that lets us know. It’s loss of hearing and so much more. However, we are most undoubtedly faced with our fragility when the doctor tells us we have an incurable disease and then proceeds to put a timeframe on our life expectancy. In that moment, it hits. And, from then on, our knowledge of our own fragility heightens in energy as we grow weaker, increase in pain, and begin to experience the draws of our last breath.
There’s more to it; however. Not only are our lives fragile, but the lives of those we love and respect are also fragile. What do I mean?
When you receive news that someone in your family is dying or has died, when a parent must bury a child, a wife must bury a husband, or a child must bury a parent. In those moments and more of a substantial loss of someone you love and respect, you’re faced with life’s fragility. Many of you reading this article have walked through this…and you’re likely nodding your head in agreement. Our fragility is real, and when we encounter it, we come face to face with something deep and ancient–something placed in every human heart by God. Something that, whether by choice or necessity, has been pushed down and suppressed. That thing is what the Bible calls eternity, and God has placed it in every human heart. And it’s usually not until we face fragility that we begin to consider the depths of eternity. At the same time, our understanding of eternity in light of God and His relationship to us begins to deepen our humility. Furthermore, this is the exact reason why we’re seeking to cultivate humility, because it is the humble who receive the grace of God.
However, it’s not only fragility that awakens the God-given eternity deep within us that leads to humility and receiving God’s grace, but it’s also our understanding of the futility of things.
Futility
Not only does fragility awaken eternity in our hearts and also cultivate humility, but so too does understanding the futility of things. What does this mean? Futility, defined, means incapable of producing a result. In other words, when something is futile, it never achieves the intended goal. For example, a spider’s web has a futile hope of stopping a rock from passing through it, but it can trap bugs. Or, a watering pitcher turned upside down has a futile hope of transporting liquid to plants from one part of the yard to another, but it can when turned right-side up. In other words, when things are expected to produce a result for which they were not designed, they prove the concept of futility. A square peg that is bigger than the round hole will never fit.
Now, when we apply this concept to our jobs, social status, or possessions, what do we get? Well, if any of those things and more become our ultimate source of satisfaction, identity, and joy, we will, at some point, come face to face with the reality of futility. Jobs, social status, possessions, and much more in and of themselves are not necessarily wrong, but they were never designed to satisfy ultimately. Moreover, even if we don’t make them ultimate, they will fade or go away at some point, too. No one keeps their job forever, holds a position of authority socially forever, or maintains total control of their possessions. A new boss arrives, a new pied piper shows up, and one stock market crash can wipe away the safest of investments. Thus, at some point, we must all face the futility of holding things forever or making them more than what they were designed to do or be.
And, like when we face our fragility or the fragility of those we love, when we face the futility of things, the deep ache for the eternal in our hearts rises to the surface. It’s then that we must decide what we do with that ache. For that ache is something God gave us to humble us and point us to His Son, Jesus Christ. Moses told us in Psalm 90:12 to number our days that we may present to God a heart of wisdom. Jesus tells us to die to ourselves, take up our crosses, and follow Him. Paul tells us that he doesn’t consider his life of any account that he might make known the gospel of Jesus Christ.
What empowers a person to live in this way? Humility.
I argue that it is humility deeply cultivated within a Christian who profoundly grasps their own and others’ fragility and totally accepts the sheer futility of things that awakens that longing for eternity.
Conclusion
In conclusion, our lives and things are like cut flowers in a vase full of water. Each flower is like a life, which is beautiful for a time. Each thing is like water in the vase, which sustains for a time. At some point, however, the flower will die and the water will be stripped of its nutrients. What a lesson this teaches us. Nevertheless, one day God will take every pedal that fell from the blossom and every drop of water that lost its minerals and remake them beautiful again. He will reconstitute every human and make them fit for eternity, where we will dwell with Him in fellowship, never decaying, dying, or facing fragility and futility.
God has set eternity in the heart of men. Paul instructed us to seek the things above. As we set our minds and hearts on Christ, heaven, and God’s glory, we see clearly how fragile we are and how futile things are as well. At that point, we’re freed from fear of receiving the call, diagnosis, and loss of job, but are instead guided toward humility and expansion of heaven on earth through obedience to Christ.
“But I do not consider my life of any account as dear to myself, so that I may finish my course and the ministry which I received from the Lord Jesus, to testify solemnly of the gospel of the grace of God.” Acts 20:24
— September 18, 2025