Cancer. Wealth. Old age. Family. Experience. When you picture the end of your life, what do you imagine dying with? Some of these things will kill you. Some will be passed on to others. Some will be markers of the life you’ve lived. But there is one thing that disappears immediately and will never come back.
It is one of the reasons that when we lose someone, especially at a young age, we feel a heightened sense of loss and tragedy. It is also a leading source of regret for men who have lived a long time. It is a resource uniquely gifted to each of us. And depending on your current season, you might be chasing it, living it, avoiding it, or outright running from it.
That resource is potential.
Potential is, at its core, our unrealized ability, capacity, or possibility that may be developed in the future. Like a plant bud, it’s a beacon of that which is possible, but not yet.
The Joy and the Weight of Who We Might Become
All of us are born with potential. At first, it exists as a general sense of promise, the idea that something meaningful lies ahead. As we grow through childhood, flashes of it begin to emerge. We see it in school, in play, at home and in the wider world. He is good at basketball, maybe he will be an athlete. He is fascinated by space, perhaps he will be a scientist. He makes friends easily, I think he’ll be popular. He loves to argue, he just might be a lawyer.
Think back to a time when someone identified potential in you – a parent, a friend, a teacher, a coach. That recognition is powerful. Someone saw something in you worth developing, a spark that might become a fire. That sense of purpose shapes the direction of our lives: which activities we pursue, which degrees we chase, which relationships we build, and which career paths we choose.
It feels good to live up to our potential. To make progress. To experience momentum. To enjoy the fruit of hard work and faithfulness. But most of us also know the opposite feeling. When we do not get into that school. When the dream does not materialize. When plans fall flat. When relationships fracture. When motivation fades and growth stalls.
Whether you feel you have realized your potential or not, the hunger for more rarely disappears. There is always the quiet sense that something remains unfinished. Alongside that hope sits the pain of not becoming everything we, or others, expected.
All of us live in the gap between where we are and where we long to be. For a young man, that gap can feel energizing and full of possibility. But over time, it often fills with doubt, pressure, anxiety, and disappointment. Eventually, we can lose sight of the man we once believed we could become. To cope, we rewrite our story. We minimize the gap. We reassure ourselves that this is simply how life turned out.
A Burden, a Responsibility, or a Call to Adventure
Living in the not yet is painful. It can cause us to lose heart. But imagine your potential is not just a burden to carry or a standard to live up to. Rather, your potential may be an internal nudge from God to become the man you were uniquely created to be.
As you look honestly at your life, consider these questions:
- Where do I have potential right now?
- Where have my habits, beliefs, or fears limited my growth?
- What would it look like to activate unrealized potential this year?
There is another resource available to you, one that works alongside potential, that can sustain you for the long road of formation. Unlike potential, it does not depend on you alone.
It is hope.
“You are never too old,” C.S. Lewis writes, “to set a new goal or to dream a new dream.” As long as you are alive, no matter your situation or your story to date, growth remains possible. Purpose remains available. Faith still has room to work.
May your tomorrow be marked by direction, shaped by effort, and sustained by hope.
