First Things First: Surrendering Vanity and Finding True Satisfaction

First Things First: Surrendering Vanity and Finding True Satisfaction

Most songs today are fine and have their place, but some are written from real, lived struggle, the kind of struggle that anyone who has wrestled with ambition, disappointment, or vanity can recognize because they have been there too. This is one of those songs:

"All the things that I have held dear,

the vanities that whispered in my ear,

what would I do if they all disappeared?

Riches and fame and all that they could buy,

I’ve come to find they never satisfy.

What would I gain if my soul’s the price?"

It is not abstract poetry. It is a mirror, a spotlight on the life that so many of us lead without noticing. The lyric captures the precise moment when you see the truth of what used to command your energy, your schedule, and your decisions. These vanities are not theory; they are real, they are active, and they have run more calendars and shaped more careers than we want to admit.

I know that moment because I have lived it. In leadership, it is easy to confuse influence with significance, output with impact, achievement with obedience. For years, I treated milestones, recognition, and reputation as though they carried eternal weight. I burned time, energy, and health chasing them, believing they mattered. And then I saw that they did not. The lyric’s question, “what would I do if they all disappeared,” is no longer rhetorical. It is a test, a reckoning, and a call to surrender.

This realization is theological as much as it is personal. Scripture repeatedly calls out vanity, exposes the idols of our hearts, and invites us to true obedience. The surrender the song describes is not sentiment or feeling, but the deliberate turning away from things that will not satisfy. To see riches and fame for what they are is to recognize that the soul cannot be bought, and the only currency that lasts is surrendered life in Christ.

Leadership makes this even more concrete. What I release privately shows itself publicly. Schedules, priorities, meetings, budgets, and initiatives all become checkpoints. They reveal whether my leadership is aligned with God’s Kingdom or with my personal ambition. Surrender is not only spiritual; it is structural. Leading without letting your soul be dictated by vanity reshapes decisions, rewrites expectations, and models integrity for everyone around you.

Surrender begins with small, deliberate acts. Reclaim time that was claimed by expectation and dedicate it to presence. Decline opportunities that feed ego rather than stewardship. Reframe success around service rather than applause. Audit initiatives monthly, asking whether they honor God or my image. These tangible practices root surrender in daily life, not just in aspiration.

Confession is honest and unflinching. I chased what hollowed me out, I measured success by metrics that did not matter, and I let the noise of the world dictate my vocation. Acknowledging that is not despair. It is the first step toward freedom. The lyric offers clarity, not guilt. When the vanities fall away, the soul begins to breathe. Real surrender turns scarcity into sufficiency, toil into stewardship, and restless striving into steady vocation.

My prayer in this season is simple. Lord, show me what I have mistaken for treasure, grant me courage to let it go, and teach me to lead from a heart that wants You more than any accolade. Make the cost worth it by making me more like You.

This is the moment the song calls us to and the moment I am living. If you find yourself there, take the question seriously: what would you do if your vanities disappeared, and how would you live then for what lasts?

First Things First