Some people walk around with swollen egos thinking the world revolves around them. “You need me more than I need you,” they say — dripping with arrogance, as if they’re the oxygen everyone breathes. But here’s the harsh truth: people are not scarce resources.
Life has a brutal way of reminding us that no one is indispensable. When you leave a job, someone else fills the position. When you walk out of a relationship, someone else eventually occupies your place. When you die, the world doesn’t stop spinning — it adjusts, reshapes, and continues without missing a beat.
Being a spouse doesn’t make you divine. Being a leader doesn’t make you untouchable. Being a pastor doesn’t make you irreplaceable. There are thousands, even millions, of people who can do what you do — and some can do it far better, with more humility, grace, and consistency.
Arrogance blinds you to this reality. It makes you overestimate your worth and underestimate the resilience of others. You think your presence sustains people — but in truth, they survive, they heal, and they move on.
If you think you’re so needed, do yourself and others a favor — step aside quietly. Don’t make noise, don’t threaten absence. Just leave. Watch how life continues as if you never existed. The meetings will still happen, the church will still worship, the children will still grow, and the world will still turn.
That’s not an insult — it’s a wake-up call.
Because humility begins when you realize that your value lies not in being needed, but in being good — good to people, good in character, good in service.
So stop thinking you’re the center of gravity. The truth is, you’re not the universe — you’re a moment in it. Make it count while it lasts.
Life has a brutal way of reminding us that no one is indispensable. When you leave a job, someone else fills the position. When you walk out of a relationship, someone else eventually occupies your place. When you die, the world doesn’t stop spinning — it adjusts, reshapes, and continues without missing a beat.
Being a spouse doesn’t make you divine. Being a leader doesn’t make you untouchable. Being a pastor doesn’t make you irreplaceable. There are thousands, even millions, of people who can do what you do — and some can do it far better, with more humility, grace, and consistency.
Arrogance blinds you to this reality. It makes you overestimate your worth and underestimate the resilience of others. You think your presence sustains people — but in truth, they survive, they heal, and they move on.
If you think you’re so needed, do yourself and others a favor — step aside quietly. Don’t make noise, don’t threaten absence. Just leave. Watch how life continues as if you never existed. The meetings will still happen, the church will still worship, the children will still grow, and the world will still turn.
That’s not an insult — it’s a wake-up call.
Because humility begins when you realize that your value lies not in being needed, but in being good — good to people, good in character, good in service.
So stop thinking you’re the center of gravity. The truth is, you’re not the universe — you’re a moment in it. Make it count while it lasts.
