In a recent interview, world No. 1 Men’s Golfer Scottie Scheffler reflected on what it felt like to win. He had just captured another title—adding to a career that’s already hall-of-fame worthy—but he didn’t sound elated. Instead, he sounded… reflective. Almost conflicted.
“You win it… then it’s like: ‘OK, now what are we going to eat for dinner?’ Life goes on.”
— Scottie Scheffler
Scheffler went even further, saying that winning felt amazing for about two minutes, and then he was just… back in it. Back to the routine. The pressure. The next swing. He even called professional golf “not a fulfilling life,” adding that if it ever interfered with being a good husband or father, he’d walk away.
Meanwhile, No. 1 Women’s Golfer Nelly Korda—fresh off a dominant run that saw her win five straight tournaments last year—recently said:
“I feel like I don’t really have anything more to prove to people. Ever.”
— Nelly Korda
Not bitter. Not boastful. Just grounded. Both of them, in their own way, are saying something that echoes a deep biblical truth:
Achievements are real, but they don’t define us. They’re mountaintop moments, not destinations.
️ The Bible’s Mountaintops
Scripture is filled with actual mountains:
- Moses climbs Mount Sinai to receive the commandments.
- Elijah meets God in the silence on Mount Horeb.
- Jesus is transfigured in radiant glory on a high mountain in Galilee.
These are transcendent, awe-filled moments. But here’s the pattern: every single one of them comes back down. The mountain gives vision, but the valley is where life is lived.
Think of Peter’s reaction at the Transfiguration in Matthew 17:
“Lord, it is good for us to be here… let me build a shelter for you.”
He wants to freeze the moment. But Jesus leads them down the mountain—straight into a scene of need, brokenness, and spiritual struggle.
The mountain is holy. But it’s not the whole story.
I’ve Been on the Mountain, Too
I’ve had my mountaintop moments. Graduations. Ordination. Milestones in ministry that felt big and holy and full of hope.
They matter. But they’re also fleeting.
The week after my ordination? 3 deaths in my congregation. A message telling me that I was a terrible pastor. Another sermon to write. The work is messy. Sometimes invisible. Sometimes discouraging. But it’s in that mess that God keeps showing up.
Just like Jesus didn’t stay glowing on the mountain, I’m learning that our calling isn’t to preserve the mountaintop—it’s to carry its vision into the valley.
What Scheffler and Korda Know (That the Bible Told Us First)
Scottie Scheffler, for all his dominance, knows the win won’t hold you.
Nelly Korda, for all her brilliance, knows you don’t need to prove your worth anymore.
They’ve both peeked behind the curtain of worldly achievement and found it a bit… thin.
The Teacher in Ecclesiastes said it this way:
“I have seen all the things that are done under the sun; all of them are meaningless, a chasing after the wind.”
(Ecclesiastes 1:14)
But the end of Ecclesiastes offers something deeper:
“Fear God and keep his commandments, for this is the whole duty of man.”
(Ecclesiastes 12:13)
Translation? You don’t have to win to have meaning. You have to be faithful.
Jesus put it even more directly:
“What good is it for someone to gain the whole world, yet forfeit their soul?”
(Mark 8:36)
Where the Work—and the Joy—Really Are
It’s easy to idolize the mountain. But here’s the truth:
- The joy isn’t just in the ceremony, it’s in the calling.
- The meaning isn’t in the moment, it’s in the mission.
- The win isn’t the goal—faithfulness is.
I don’t want to live for two-minute highs.
I want to live in the long obedience of showing up—for my family, my calling, and my God.
Like Scottie said, “I’d much rather be a great father than I would be a great golfer.”
Amen to that.
Final Thought
Whatever your mountain is—graduation, promotion, a new milestone—don’t be afraid to enjoy it. But don’t expect it to carry you. You weren’t made to live there.
You were made for the valley.
For the people.
For the work.
And if you look closely, you’ll see Jesus already walking ahead of you—leading you off the mountain, and into real life.
Grace and Recovery 