Is Everything Really Meaningless?
“Meaningless! Meaningless!” says the Teacher. “Utterly meaningless! Everything is meaningless.” — Ecclesiastes 1:2
At first glance, Ecclesiastes can feel almost depressing.
King Solomon had everything most people spend their lives chasing. Wealth. Influence. Wisdom. Success. Pleasure. Accomplishment. He built cities, planted vineyards, surrounded himself with beauty, and possessed more than most of us could ever imagine.
Yet after experiencing it all, he reached a startling conclusion:
Without God, it is all vapor.
During a teaching this week, I discovered the Hebrew word translated meaningless is Hevel. It doesn’t simply mean worthless. It means like mist, breath, or smoke. Something you can see for a moment, but cannot hold onto.
Isn’t that true? Careers eventually end. Awards collect dust. Our accomplishments fade with time. Even the homes we work so hard to build will one day belong to someone else.
None of those things are wrong to pursue, but they simply weren’t designed to carry the weight of our purpose.
As a coach, I’ve learned that sometimes the best answers come from asking the opposite question. What is “not” meaningless?
This is what I found. People.
Not because we are perfect, but because every person carries the image of God and an eternal soul.
I love the conversations with people that restore hope. That is not meaningless.
Encouraging someone to take one more step in faith. That is not meaningless.
Watching someone discover they are deeply loved. That is not meaningless.
Helping a struggling marriage find healing. That is not meaningless.
Guiding an addict to find help for freedom. That is not meaningless.
Assuring a lonely person they are not forgotten. That is not meaningless.
The list goes on.
For years I’ve coached people through transitions, helped writers find their voices, encouraged entrepreneurs to dream again, and walked beside women wondering if their best years were behind them. I’ve watched something remarkable happen over and over again.
Real fulfillment never came from building a bigger platform, it came from helping another person become who God created them to be.
That kind of work never feels empty. That’s the kind of work that is ‘un-retire-able’.
When someone discovers they are loved, forgiven, chosen, and called by God, everything changes. They may still face hardships. They may still experience loss. But they now have an anchor that no circumstance can steal.
That is not meaningless.
Ecclesiastes doesn’t leave us hopeless. It leaves us honest. It strips away the illusion that temporary things can satisfy eternal longings.
Perhaps Solomon’s greatest lesson is this:
Don’t spend your life chasing what disappears, instead spend it investing in what lasts forever.
At the end of our lives, I doubt we’ll wish we’d accumulated more things, worked harder, or built our careers up while leaving family behind.
I believe I’ll look back on the lives I encouraged, the faith shared, and the hearts that found Jesus.
So today, I’ll simply agree with Solomon as I continue to ask God to introduce me to people, everything else is just vapor.
from the book of Sue:)
pic cred. rob-curran-sUXXO3xPBYo-unsplash


