Success That Gives Meaning
Building Something That Endures
I have two stories I want to share with you.
My Father
My father came to this country from Central America as a poor man. Through hard work, he built a life for himself: a business, a beautiful house with a pool, and a home that provided well for his family of four. My father was very Latin in his ways—reserved with his emotions and believing firmly that men shouldn’t cry. He rarely offered advice, thinking that if he had to figure life out on his own, so did I. That, in his mind, was what made a man “real.”
So imagine my shock one day as a teenager when I walked into a dimly lit room and found my father crying. I was taken aback. Our relationship had always been distant—I wasn’t used to seeing him vulnerable. Concerned, I asked if he was alright.
He looked at me and said something I would never forget:
“I am alright, son, but I want to tell you this: after all I’ve done, after all I’ve achieved, I still have no clue what the meaning of life is.”
Those words stayed with me for a long time, haunting me, shaping my understanding of life in ways I couldn’t have anticipated. One year later, my father died of a heart attack—a sobering reminder of how fleeting life is. Like Ecclesiastes says, “Meaningless! Meaningless! Everything is meaningless” (Ecclesiastes 1:2), and it struck me that no amount of success could answer life’s deepest questions.
My Friend Eddie
The second story is about a friend named Eddie. Eddie was a devoted husband and father of three. He had landed a job he loved and was working tirelessly to make it permanent. To reach that milestone, he had to accumulate a certain number of hours, so he poured himself into his work as much as he could.
During this time, his wife often urged him to think about the meaning of life—for themselves and for their kids—and suggested they consider going to church. Eddie always responded that he would, once he became permanent at work. She kept asking; he kept saying, “Not yet. Wait.”
One Sunday, I was outside with my cousins, working on a car, when Eddie drove by with a huge smile on his face. He came over to show us his card and tell us that he had finally achieved permanent status. We celebrated with him, and he left that day, full of hope and pride in what he had accomplished.
That same night, around 3 a.m., my phone rang. Half asleep and startled by the hour, I answered to hear devastating news: Eddie had been accidentally shot in the head in a drive-by. He was gone. I was overwhelmed with shock and grief. It reminded me painfully of James 4:14, which says that our life is like a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes.
Eddie left behind a wife and three kids. He had just reached his dream job, yet all he had worked for was ripped away in a single moment. For years, this tragedy haunted me—the cruel reality of how fleeting life can be, and how easily all our plans can be shattered.
Life’s Final Reflection
I have met many people at the end of their lives—some who seemed successful, others not so much—but all shared the same struggle: looking back and trying to find meaning in the life they had lived. The most recent was my brother-in-law, who passed away from cancer. His death was a deep and personal tragedy for me.
In his final days, we had a deep conversation, and through our shared tears, he admitted he was facing the same struggle. It brought to mind the words of Jesus in Matthew 16:26:
“For what will it profit a man if he gains the whole world and forfeits his soul?”
It made me think: all the success, all the work, all the things we chase in life—what are they really worth if they don’t answer this one question: what am I building, and why?
Building Wisely
What I’ve come to see is this: many people spend their lives building—careers, families, reputations—without ever asking whether what they are building is worth it.
It is like constructing a house destined to fall off a cliff. No matter what we build, no matter what we achieve, it can all be taken from us in a single moment. That is why it is crucial for every person to pause and look ahead before continuing to build.
Jesus illustrated this perfectly in Matthew 7:24-27, where he said that the wise man builds his house on the rock, but the foolish man builds on sand. I think about that often—because no matter how much we labor, if our foundation isn’t right, nothing we build will endure.
If you knew a bomb was going to land where you were building, wouldn’t you stop and move somewhere safe? Death is like that bomb—it can come at any moment, to anyone.
So the question is not just how we build, but where—and why. If there is nothing beyond this life, then build however you like—it ultimately won’t matter. But if there is a God, then we must seek His plans above all else. As Proverbs 14:12 warns, “There is a way that seems right to a man, but its end is the way of death.” Many people follow paths that look good, feel right, or promise success, only to discover too late that they were building on the wrong foundation.
When we build according to His will, we can be certain that what we are building has meaning—something beyond comfort, beyond survival, beyond this life. Only what is built on His foundation truly lasts.
Because no one wants to reach the end and say:
“I did it my way. I made it… But for what?”
If everything simply ends, what was it all for?
But when we build with God, we are assured that what is done through Him and for Him will last—not just for a moment, but for eternity.
Finding God
I believe there is a God—not simply because He gives meaning to this life, but because He became a reality I could no longer deny. It’s something difficult to explain unless you’ve experienced it yourself.
Like many others, I spent much of my life building things my own way. I came to know God later in life, and that realization forced me to face what I had built. Now, I find myself having to tear it down and begin again.
It isn’t easy to let go, to relearn, and to change direction. But I am allowing God to lead me, so I can build what is right. As Proverbs 14:12 says, “There is a way that seems right to a man, but its end is the way of death.” Many people follow paths that look good or feel right, only to discover too late that they were building on the wrong foundation. I want to show others—especially my child—what is worth building, instead of following the same path we all tend to take, like sheep, chasing what only seems good in our own eyes.
Only God knows how to build what is perfect, what is truly good, and what is right.
Trust in the Lord—and build your life on Him. Build for the Kingdom that is, not for the one that is passing. Build for the Kingdom that is coming, not for the one that is passing.
