Every man is a hunter. We're all scouting for something.
Maybe it's a bigger salary, a better title, or a reputation that stands tall. We spend our lives in pursuit, convinced that when we finally catch what we're chasing, everything else will fall into place. We tell ourselves that this one achievement, this one milestone, this one accomplishment will be the answer to all our problems.
But what happens when we finally catch it?
I'll never forget a young man I knew whose goal was to become a millionaire by age 30. There's nothing inherently wrong with ambition or setting lofty goals. God gives us gifts—entrepreneurship, creativity, determination—and He wants us to use them fully.
But here's the danger: We often sacrifice everything for something that leaves us empty.
We work sacrificially. We save relentlessly. We put aside relationships, time with family, even our walk with God—all to chase this one thing we've convinced ourselves will satisfy us. Personal relationships become a means to an end. Work becomes a means to an end. Everything in our lives shapes around that one pursuit.
And then we get it.
The promotion. The house. The recognition. The financial milestone.
And we're left asking: Was it worth it?
The apostle Paul understood this tension. In 1 Corinthians 9:24-25, he writes about runners in a race, all competing for a prize. But he makes a crucial distinction: "Now they do it to obtain a corruptible crown, but we an incorruptible."
The world's trophies shine for a moment, then fade.
That brand new vehicle that was perfect when you bought it? Eventually it gets dinged up, rusts, and becomes a money pit. The best homes in the world develop problems over time. Even the greatest achievements of this life offer satisfaction for only a moment before they fade.
Are you willing to sacrifice your family for a moment of pleasure? Are you willing to sacrifice eternity for 70 or 80 years on this earth?
I knew a gentleman who put his family through the ringer. He couldn't keep a job, moving from place to place, dragging his family along. In his pursuit of the next great opportunity, he didn't realize that his inconsistency and endless chasing was sacrificing his own family. His dreams came at the cost of his children, his relationships, and the things that were truly precious.
The writer of Ecclesiastes captures this perfectly: "Then I looked on all the works that my hands had wrought, and on the labor that I had labored to do. And behold, all was vanity and vexation of spirit, and there was no profit under the sun."
Think about that. A successful career. Hard work. Grit and determination. And at the end of it all, the conclusion was that it brought only vanity and burden, with no lasting profit.
Here's what many people miss: If you chase the world, the world will take your life. If you chase the world, the world will take your family. But if you chase Christ, you gain both.
It's like sand in your hands. Cup it gently, and you can hold a lot. But clench your fist tight, trying to hold on desperately, and it slips through the cracks between your fingers. By the time you're done squeezing, you're left with just a morsel.
The more you try to clench your family, your success, and your security in your own hands, the more it slips away. But when you give it to Christ, when you chase Him instead, you gain both.
Psalm 127:1 asks the essential question: "Except the Lord build the house, they labor in vain that build it."
So what's building your house this morning? Are you the architect, following your own specs, aspirations, and dreams? Or is God the author and architect, the one who gets the final say?
This is where it gets counterintuitive. Jesus makes an incredible promise in Matthew 6:33: "But seek ye first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things shall be added unto you."
Wait—how does that work?
If I set aside time from my business to seek God, will I become more profitable? If I sacrifice my personal aspirations to pursue God's kingdom, will I still achieve my goals?
It doesn't make sense to our natural minds. We think we need to work harder, work longer, give more of ourselves to achieve what we want. But we end up like someone working a full year only to receive no wages at the end—exhausted, disappointed, and empty-handed.
God's way is different. Seek Him first. Chase after Him. Aim your family at Him. And trust that He will add these things to you.
I met with a Christian businessman recently who shared that 10% of all his profits go into a fund for Christian causes. Not after he became successful—this was foundational to how he built his business. He trusted that God would make it profitable, and God has honored that faith.
Make no mistake: choosing the eternal over the temporal isn't easy. It requires spiritual toughness and self-control.
I remember my junior year of high school. I was sick and tired of trying to mold myself after everyone else, of chasing popularity and recognition. So I made a decision: I brought my Bible to school every single day. On the bus, I'd read it in the middle of the aisle where everyone could see. I'd set it on my desk so everyone knew I was a Christian.
The mocking came. The jokes flew. People made fun of me.
But looking back, I'm grateful I made that choice. The deep relationships I thought would last forever in high school? They faded. The same thing happened with college friendships. But my relationship with Christ has stood.
The right chase requires purpose, dedication, and spiritual discipline. It means walking differently from the world, swimming upstream, living as an example of what Christ wants us to be.
Here's the reality: You can only truly chase one thing. If you're chasing two things, you'll never reach either. You'll take a step this way, then a step that way, back and forth, going nowhere.
So the question this morning is simple but profound:
What are you scouting for?
Every family is scouting something. Every heart is chasing something. What are you chasing that no one knows about? Why are you chasing it? To what end are you trying to get?
The world offers corruptible trophies—things that shine for a moment, then fade, leaving you with regret and emptiness.
Christ offers incorruptible trophies—things that stand the test of time, things that last forever, things that endure hardship and difficult times.
As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.
Will you?