The Good Life Isn't Bought, It's Built

In a world saturated with propaganda, endless opinions, and the constant pressure to take a stance on everything, finding true alignment can feel like an impossible task. Our algorithms feed us curated content, our media outlets push competing narratives, and we're left wondering: Where do I stand? What should I believe? How do I live the good life?

The answer doesn't come from our news feeds or social media platforms. It comes from an ancient wisdom that cuts through the noise with stunning clarity: "No, O people, the Lord has told you what is good, and this is what he requires of you: to do what is right, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God" (Micah 6:8).

This simple yet profound truth offers us a roadmap—not to escape life's pressures, but to align ourselves with something far greater than the cultural currents pulling us in every direction.

Listening Above the Noise

Consider the image of a professional quarterback in the heat of a championship game. Surrounded by deafening noise, intense pressure, and the weight of expectations, he pauses between plays and gestures upward—a signal that he's listening. Through the speaker in his helmet, his coach is calling plays, providing direction, offering guidance. That simple gesture communicates: I'm locked in. I'm listening. I'm ready to execute.

At the highest level of competition, greatness requires listening. It demands alignment—not just with personal talent, but with the team, the coach, the larger strategy. A collection of talented individuals doesn't win championships; an aligned team does.

The spiritual parallel is striking. In the midst of life's chaos, we must pause and listen. We must align ourselves not with what culture celebrates, but with what God calls good. We must tune out the competing voices and lock into the one Voice that truly matters.

The Wisdom of Buying Dirt

There's a simple country song that captures this truth beautifully with an unlikely phrase: "You can't buy happiness, but you can buy dirt."

It's not flashy. It's not impressive. It doesn't sound like greatness at all. But it's filled with godly wisdom.

The song tells the story of a grandfather's advice to his grandson—not about climbing ladders or building platforms, but about settling down, planting roots, and choosing to stay. Find the one you can't live without. Get a ring. Let your knee hit the ground. Do what you love but call it work. Throw a little money in the plate at church.

This is counter-cultural wisdom. We're told the good life is something to be acquired—more success, more upgrades, more options, more opportunities. But this simple advice suggests something radically different: the good life isn't bought; it's built.

It takes time. It requires commitment. It demands that we plant ourselves somewhere and cultivate rather than constantly looking for what's next.

Seeking First

Jesus addresses this tension directly in Matthew 6:33: "Seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well."

This verse comes at the end of a longer teaching about anxiety, money, and control. Jesus isn't asking for casual interest or temporary commitment. He's calling for full allegiance—a daily reorienting of our lives around his kingdom.

"Seek first" doesn't mean a one-time decision made years ago. It means an ongoing pursuit, a daily alignment. Jesus is telling us to let the kingdom become the organizing principle of our lives.

This is challenging because many of us want the blessings of the kingdom without the commitment. We want peace, prosperity, security, and provision, but we resist the reordering of our priorities. We live like renters—always looking for the next deal, measuring success by accumulation rather than sacrificial generosity, treating our relationships and even our faith as temporary and replaceable.

But Jesus calls us to be owners who cultivate, not renters who tolerate.

The Truth About Righteousness

Here's where we need to pause and clarify something crucial: righteousness is not perfection.

The word "righteous" doesn't mean morally flawless. It means aligned. It means walking on the right path, even when we stumble along the way. Righteousness is about right relationship with God and others, the right use of power and resources, right alignment with kingdom values.

If righteousness meant perfection, we wouldn't need Jesus. But righteousness is ultimately accomplished through Christ, who empowers us to walk the narrow path and extends grace when we fall short.

This "buy dirt righteousness" looks like faithfulness where you are, love where you're planted, obedience lived out over time. It's not spectacular or Instagram-worthy. It's dirt-level faithfulness—doing what's right, loving mercy, walking humbly with God.

Plant Where You're Placed

So what does this look like practically?

First, we need to plant the kingdom where we are. God isn't asking us to fix everything or become someone else entirely. He's asking us to be faithful exactly where he has placed us—with the people we're surrounded by, in the job we have, with the resources at our disposal.

We're not where we are by accident. That soil—right there, where you're standing—is where the kingdom wants to grow next.

Second, we need to make "buy dirt decisions." What's one area where you can stop keeping your options open and instead plant roots? Where can you choose alignment over ambition, faithfulness over fame, cultivation over consumption?

Maybe it's committing to your church community instead of church-shopping. Maybe it's investing in your marriage instead of fantasizing about greener grass. Maybe it's practicing sacrificial generosity instead of waiting until you have "enough." Maybe it's choosing presence over productivity with your family.

The Danger of Someday

Jesus's call has a sense of urgency: "Seek the kingdom now." Not eventually. Not someday. Now.

We all know the trap of someday. Someday I'll slow down. Someday I'll prioritize family. Someday I'll focus on my faith. Someday I'll be generous. But someday never shows up, and before we know it, we've become who we are and we're where we're at—and we wonder how we got there.

God's kingdom grows in today dirt, not someday dirt. Your marriage, your parenting, your friendships, your church involvement, your generosity, your legacy—all of it is shaped by the decisions you make today.

The Promise

Here's the beautiful promise tucked into Jesus's teaching: "And all these things will be given to you as well." Not everything you want, but everything you need.

This verb is passive, meaning God does the giving. Yes, we participate through obedience and alignment, but ultimately, he's the one who provides. This is a quiet but firm critique of our hustle culture and self-sufficiency theology.

The kingdom life doesn't chase applause; it chases alignment. It doesn't celebrate maximum achievement; it builds something that lasts. The best of life isn't loud; it's loyal.

Your Move

So here's the question to sit with: What's your "buy dirt decision" this week? Where is God calling you to plant roots instead of keeping your options open? Where do you need to seek his kingdom first instead of waiting for someday?

The good life isn't bought. It's built—one faithful decision at a time, in the ordinary soil of everyday life, aligned with the kingdom that never ends.