“All his days are full of sorrow, and his work is a vexation. Even in the night his heart does not rest. This also is vanity.” — Ecclesiastes 2:23
That verse from Ecclesiastes reveals a painful truth: even a productive life can feel empty when the wrong purpose drives our work. Wealth on its own doesn’t bring peace—often, it brings more pressure. But Scripture offers a better way.
What’s Driving All That Effort?
It’s easy to admire someone who plans wisely, saves consistently, and builds steadily over time. Our culture praises that kind of discipline as responsible and virtuous—and often, it is. But Ecclesiastes challenges us to ask: What’s driving all that effort?
In Ecclesiastes 2:18, the Preacher writes, “I hated all my toil... seeing that I must leave it to the man who will come after me.” He isn’t condemning hard work—he’s grieving that all he’s built will one day be handed off, possibly to someone who won’t value or steward it well.
That’s where sorrow begins—not in failure, but in success without peace. “All his days are full of sorrow, and his work is a vexation. Even in the night his heart does not rest” (Ecclesiastes 2:23). The more we accumulate, the more we fear losing it. What promised security only multiplies anxiety.
What a striking image—someone lying awake at night, not from failure, but from success. The more he possesses, the more he worries. This is the irony of accumulation: it convinces us that security is just one more achievement away, while quietly making us more anxious the more we gain.
Jesus’ Warning About Bigger Barns
Jesus echoes this same warning in Luke 12. He tells the parable of a rich man who reaped such a bountiful harvest that he decided to build bigger barns to store it all. His conclusion? “Take life easy—eat, drink, and be merry.” To the world, that sounds like winning. But Jesus calls him a fool. Why? Because that very night, his life would be demanded of him. Then comes the haunting question: “The things you have prepared, whose will they be?”
What’s even more interesting is the context of that parable. Jesus tells it in response to a man asking Him to settle an inheritance dispute. This wasn’t someone who earned the wealth—he simply wanted his share, and maybe more. Jesus’ warning is clear: a greedy heart isn’t the only danger. An entitled heart is just as spiritually destructive. And that’s exactly what the Preacher feared in Ecclesiastes—wealth falling into the hands of someone who didn’t labor for it and may not know how to handle it wisely.
We see this all the time in real life. Many financial advisors and estate planners will tell you that inherited wealth, especially when passed down without spiritual or emotional maturity, can do more harm than good. It can fracture families, distort priorities, and erode purpose. The problem isn’t money itself, it’s the absence of wisdom alongside it.
A Better Definition of Success
That’s why this lesson matters. You can save well, build wealth, and still feel anxious and unsatisfied—not because you failed, but because you expected your efforts to give you what only God can: peace, joy, and purpose.
But here’s the good news—Ecclesiastes doesn’t leave us in despair. In verse 26, we read, “To the one who pleases Him, God has given wisdom and knowledge and joy.” The solution isn’t to stop working or saving. The solution is to stop worshiping our work. Stop defining success by the size of your bank account and start defining it by your faithfulness to the One who owns it all.
When we live as stewards instead of owners, the pressure lifts. We begin to see wealth not as a prize to secure our future, but as a tool to serve God’s Kingdom. Accumulation loses its grip, and generosity takes root. That’s when real joy begins.
So, ask yourself today: Am I building bigger barns, or am I faithfully stewarding what Go
