“IT WAS LIKE HE NEVER EXISTED”

What do people gain from all their labors at which they toil under the sun?

ECCLESIASTES 1:3

“IT WAS LIKE HE NEVER EXISTED.”

I looked at Ernie as he spoke these words and saw the gentle grace of a life well lived. He had worked hard to support his family, and now in retirement he was pouring his energies into building up the men’s ministry of his church.

Ernie chose early retirement in part because of something that occurred just a few years before he left. He worked for one of the most stable and famous companies in the United States. Until the late 1980s, if you could land a job with this company, you pretty much figured you had a job for life. They paid well but demanded a lot out of their workers.

“We gave our lives to the company,” Ernie said. “They took care of us, but they expected us to organize our lives around our work. If we ever said no, even once, we’d be taken off the track of promotion and kept in a vocational eddy for the rest of our careers. So we got to work early and stayed late.”

One of Ernie’s coworkers was a younger man in his late forties who had worked side by side with Ernie for years. One morning, the man failed to arrive at work, and Ernie assumed he was sick—until a call came from his wife at 8:30 a.m. with the shocking news that the man had died. His heart had stopped while he was eating breakfast.

“They chose his replacement that afternoon,” Ernie said, “and the man was on the job early the next morning—less than twenty-four hours after his predecessor was pronounced dead. We spent about fifteen minutes giving the new guy a quick orientation, but he was familiar with what we were doing so it didn’t take much. Everything ran incredibly smoothly.”

Ernie paused, gazing out the windshield, before he went on. “None of the other coworkers went to the guy’s funeral. They knew the guy but didn’t know his family, so they figured it didn’t matter much. After he was buried, as far as the company was concerned, it was like he never existed. He gave his entire life to the company, coming in early and working late, but the company didn’t miss a step—not a single step—once he died. It’s terrible to say this, but in a way, the company was less inconvenienced by his death than if he had taken a two-week vacation.”

Ernie took me back to my hotel after a speaking engagement and dropped me off, but his words remained with me.

The next day, I walked in the front door of my home, heard the familiar cry, “Papa!” and soon felt three pairs of arms around my legs and waist. We went for a walk, and Graham, who was then just four years old, held my wife’s hand and mine at the same time, proudly proclaiming, “Now the whole family is together!” He kissed Lisa’s hand and then kissed mine.

Kelsey, then just two, got a big smile on her face when she looked back at me and called out, “Papa’s home!”

Ernie’s words, “It was like he never existed,” hovered over me. I believe they may have been a significant factor in my decision to become self-employed.

I had that talk with Ernie more than fifteen years ago; I don’t even know if he’s still alive. But his insight will remain with me for the rest of my life. Many people clamor for our attention, but only a very few make room for us in their hearts. To some our absence amounts to a mere inconvenience; to others it feels like a devastating spiritual, emotional, and relational black hole.

Which group will get our best thoughts, our most earnest energy, and the most productive hours of our lives? I guess it comes down to this: Whom do I really want to disappoint with my no? The kids whose faces light up when they see me? The wife who will be there for me, whether I’m making megabucks, retired, or unemployed? Or a business that views me as an efficient useful cog that meets its needs at the moment, while seeing me as utterly replaceable?

I’m not antibusiness—not by any means. God uses businesses, large and small, to feed many families. But the truth is, we matter more than we may realize to our families and probably less than we’d like to admit to our employer.

Let’s reward those whose affection is genuine and sincere.

Heavenly Father, help us to learn from the examples of others and from Ecclesiastes 1:3 to prioritize relationships and family in regard to where we put our best efforts and focus. Help us to so order our days that the people who are most affected by our passing will also be the ones who received the bulk of our attention. In Jesus’ name, amen.