The rest of not being the protagonist

I have been seeing a few posts lately from people remembering the things they gave so much of their youth to, especially serving in church, leading ministries, and being deeply involved in something that once shaped almost every part of their lives.

I understand that feeling very well. I started serving in church when I was 12, and for almost three decades it was one of the biggest parts of my life. I led young people, played the piano, and spent countless hours in rehearsals, meetings, discipleship groups, services, and activities. Things slowed down around the time I turned 40 and moved from Costa Rica to the United States. I am still involved in church, but in a very different way from how I used to be.

I look back at those years with a lot of gratitude. I believe the calling was real, that the work mattered, and that those years helped shape who I am.

At the same time, I have been thinking about how hard it can be to accept that our role in something may change. Sometimes we start believing that the ministry, company, project, or mission needs our continued involvement more than it really does.

Michael Stevens talks about something related to this in the legendary Vsauce video linked below. He calls it “protagonist syndrome,” the tendency to experience life as though we are the main character of the whole story. That is natural to some extent. We see every hour we invest, every sacrifice we make, and every problem we solve, so our own contribution can feel much bigger from the inside than it looks in the larger picture.

Psychology has related ideas such as egocentric bias and role engulfment. In simple terms, we can overestimate our part in a collective effort, and one role can become so important to us that it starts taking over too much of our identity.

For Christians, this can become even more complicated because we may sincerely say, “This is what God called me to do.” That may be completely true. But being called to something does not always mean being called to carry the same role forever.

Paul says in 1 Corinthians 3:6, “I planted, Apollos watered, but God gave the growth.” Both men had real and important parts in the work, but neither one was the whole story. That does not minimize the calling at all. To me, it makes the calling bigger, because it reminds us that God’s work is not limited to one person.

Moving into a different season does not automatically mean we are being disobedient, irresponsible, or unreliable. Sometimes faithfulness means staying and serving with everything we have. Sometimes it means recognizing that our part has changed and trusting God enough to let someone else carry what comes next.

The tricky part is that an exaggerated sense of importance does not always feel like pride. It can feel like responsibility. We tell ourselves that we cannot rest because people depend on us, that we cannot step away because the project needs us, or that pursuing something different would mean abandoning the mission. When the cause is good, overcommitment can feel almost holy.

We work for a company with more than one hundred thousand employees. I care about my work, I want to do it well, and I believe my contribution has value. But if I leave, the company will adjust and someone else will eventually take over my responsibilities.

My son, however, has only one father.

That does not make my work unimportant. It simply helps me see that I am not equally replaceable everywhere. The same is true in our relationships with our spouses, children, parents, close friends, and even in the responsibility we have for our own health, growth, and dreams.

The point is not to care less about work, ministry, service, or ambition. It is to keep them in the right proportion.

There is real rest in letting go of the need to remain the protagonist, while still honoring the calling and everything it required from us. What we did can remain meaningful even when our role changes.

Humility is not believing that we do not matter. It is understanding where, how, and to whom we matter most.