A life lived for self is vanity; one that eases others' pain is a gift

If we truly understood that talent is a trust from God, corruption would disgust us. A health worker would never steal drugs from a public hospital, because s/he would know that healing is holy work. An engineer would never put up a death trap and call it a flat, because he would know that building is a divine assignment, not just a contract.

All we do counts only when it rekindles hope, unlocks dreams, transforms lives, wipes tears, clothes the naked, houses the homeless, and eases pain for the afflicted. When done with humility, joy, passion and commitment, our work comes into harmony with the Supreme. As Jesus asked: "What good is it for someone to gain the whole world, yet forfeit their soul?" Mark 8:36.

That question should trouble us. What have we gained by living only for ourselves? The modern world measures success in money, power, followers, houses and titles. But none can negotiate with death. Wealth buys comfort. It cannot buy another breath. Power commands armies. It cannot command divinity or foretell the future.

What have we gained living for self? Elon Musk funded Donald Trump to the hilt to win and to kill USAID - a lifeline to the sick, refugees, homeless and unschooled across sub-Saharan Africa and Asia. He succeeded. USAID was halted. Consequences were felt beyond Washington.

Health organisations warned of disruptions to HIV treatment, deaths of the old and young due to malnutrition and opportunistic infections. Almost a million refugees in Kakuma and Dadaab don’t get enough rations.

Is Musk, now a trillionaire, happy? Is America better? No. The cost of living is sky-high. Trump went to war in Iran. He seized Venezuela's President Nicolás Maduro, promising oil for Americans. Maduro sits in jail while the price of fuel at the pump has hit a crescendo. What did America or Musk gain? Nothing.

What is the final measure of power? The billionaire remains mortal. America remains mortal. Africa remains mortal. All human achievements are temporary. It is vanity, as always.

Michael Jackson, the greatest musician of all time, at least gave millions to charity. His fame led him to declare that he would live beyond a 100 years. He did not live half of it. Zimbabwean tycoon Wicknell Chivayo, who lived in opulence, died recently in a helicopter crash with his wife. His fame could not buy another year.

This is the warning to the rich fool: "You have plenty of grain laid up for many years. Take life easy; eat, drink and be merry." But God said to him, "You fool! This very night your life will be demanded from you" — Luke 12:19-20. It is the same warning we see in the story of the rich man and Lazarus — Luke 16:19-31.

Nations wage wars, impose sanctions and haggle over raw materials. Presidents command armies. But after all the power and wealth, what have we truly gained if we lose our responsibility to one another? Pharaoh was the most powerful man in Egypt, yet when death struck his own household, he let the children of Israel go. God knows what breaks a man — mortality.

Yesterday's wealth. Yesterday's influence. Yesterday's plans for tomorrow. Then tomorrow never came. Wealth without purpose becomes prison. Talent without humility becomes arrogance. Power without service becomes oppression. Success without compassion becomes emptiness. We are custodians. We should be each other’s keepers.

The house we build will outlive us. Money will pass to another. Office will belong to someone else. Title will disappear. Even the body we protect will return to dust. So, what remains? Lives we touched. Tears we wiped. Children we educated. Hungry we fed. Strangers we helped. Sick we comforted. Vulnerable we protected. Hope we restored.

Our short life belongs to the Giver. It only becomes meaningful through service, no matter the years He grants us. Jesus appeared in the Temple at 12, returned at 30 to begin his ministry, and in roughly three years finished his work and went to the Father. Three years; not decades of power. Not a lifetime of possessions. Not centuries of empire. Three years only, and yet we talk about him more than any human who walked on earth.

That should humble us. Whatever your age, title or wealth, use your time well. Do not wait to be rich to be generous, powerful to be useful, or old to learn that life is short. We came with nothing and leave with nothing. Between the two, what matters is not how much you owned but how much you gave, not how loudly you were praised but how quietly you served, not how high you climbed but how many you lifted.

Empires fall, currencies fail, and statues crumble, yet one act of mercy outlives them all. Legacy is not in bank balances but in healed hearts and restored dignity. A life lived for self alone is vanity; a life that lightens another's path becomes a gift. God only asks that we be faithful stewards of what is in our hands.

Mr Nyaringo is a Kenyan public affairs commentator based in Washington, USA