How Should We Live in a World That Has So Much Evil?

A woman I work with lost her dad last week.

He was exactly one day older than my own father. That detail caught me off guard. Not that it sent me into some spiraling introspection of life or anything like that. But it served as a quiet reminder.

We don’t know how much time we have on this earth. We don’t get to make that choice. We can, however, choose how to use the time we’re given. We decide how to spend our talents, so when our time does eventually come, we’ll be ready.

We see that in Paul in 2 Timothy chapter 4:6-7:

“For I am already being poured out like a drink offering, and the time of my departure is near. I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.”

For Paul, a life poured out wasn’t a waste. It was evidence of a life well lived.

It was a form of worship.

The Steadiness of a Life Poured Out

I love that imagery, of a life being poured out. There’s an intentionality in that image; a careful precision. There’s the weight of tipping a pitcher for the first time, the strain to push past that initial resistance, the gentle easing of the weight as habit settles in, then the satisfying thinning of the stream until the final drop falls.

Most of the time, pouring out isn’t dramatic. Instead, it’s simply steady. Faithful.

In that, I think of Fred Rogers. Yes, that Mr. Rogers. His calm demeanor and faithfulness weren’t sensational at first glance. Yet when his life is viewed as a whole, his decades of quiet love shaped thousands. He poured his life out slowly, consistently, reflecting Christ in every sweater and quiet word.

“You don’t ever have to do anything sensational in order to love or to be loved,” Rogers once said in a commencement speech. “The real drama of life (that which matters most) is rarely center stage or in the spotlight.”

Fred Rogers lived that truth. He didn’t seek power. He didn’t seek glory. Instead, he sought to love as Christ loved, and in so doing, left a heavy mark on the world. His life is proof that steady faithfulness matters. It was the quiet, consistent pouring out that defined Mr. Rogers’ life.

Sometimes, though, life isn’t always quiet. Sometimes a life poured out isn’t stretched across decades. Sometimes it’s compressed into a single day or moment.

And yet, when those moments fall on willing hearts, they can be just as powerful.

Poured Out in a Single Day

Twenty-four years ago, the world fell still as the Twin Towers fell. The pain of that day still lingers, but so do the incredible displays of sacrifice. Firefighters climbed stairs as others ran down. Police officers held their ground as chaos erupted around them. Ordinary civilians carried strangers, shielded colleagues, rushed to help. Some knew they wouldn’t come back.

And yet, they went anyway. They didn’t hoard their lives.

They poured them out in a remarkable display of service.

In that snapshot of time, those men and women embodied Paul’s imagery better than almost anyone else I can think of. Their lives weren’t taken meaninglessly. They were offered, laid down in love for others. And though their sacrifices were seen in a single day, the weight of those actions continues to bear witness–like Paul, like Mr. Rogers, like every Christian who has learned to live not for themselves but for the glory of God.

Paul called it “the good fight.” On 9/11, those men and women fought in a moment of crisis. Others, like Fred Rogers, fought quietly over a lifetime. And the rest of us? How can we pour ourselves out as wholly and completely as they did?

So long as we open ourselves to God’s will–so long as we keep the faith and remember why we’re fighting–I don’t know if we need those answers right now. All we can do is seek God’s guidance. And as we do, may we not focus on what is flowing out of our cup.

But on what our cup can fill.