From Overwhelmed to Contented

What follows is an excerpt from my most recent book and it gives a snapshot of the publication's tone and intention. This portion is from chapter 6 entitled, Epilogue and Wisdom: Idealism Can Become Isolation.

It is available in digital, paperback, and hardback format here.

Leo Tolstoy, after undergoing a spiritual awakening, became consumed with the teachings of Jesus, especially the Sermon on the Mount. He embraced pacifism, poverty, and simple living. But as he aged his idealism became extreme.

He condemned all forms of wealth, organized religion, and even art unless it directly served morality. Not only that, but he also expected others, especially his wife and children, to follow him. When they didn’t, conflict escalated. His home became a battlefield, and, in the end, he fled his estate, estranged from his family, and conflicted to the end.

Tolstoy’s vision was beautiful: live as Jesus taught. But without balance, grace, or companionship, it became unbearable.

Tolstoy’s moral code grew increasingly rigid and self-righteous. He eventually rejected the resurrection, the divinity of Christ, and much of orthodox doctrine. He clung to the ethics of Jesus but emptied them of their supernatural roots and this left him in despair. In A Confession, he wrote: “I felt that what I had been standing on had collapsed, and that I had no support under my feet.”[i]

This isn’t new. In 1 Kings 19, the prophet Elijah flees into the wilderness, convinced he’s the only one left serving God. “I alone am left,” he says (v. 10). God gently corrects him: “I still have seven thousand in Israel who have not bowed to Baal” (v. 18).

Like Tolstoy Elijah’s idealism made him unable to see other faithful followers of God, and he mistook loneliness for faithfulness.

So, how can we pursue righteousness without falling into isolation? Simply put, let your idealism mature into wisdom. With time, the sharp edges of youthful idealism can soften into durable conviction. The truly wise are still idealists at heart, but they’ve learned to love people more than they love being right.

Jesus told a parable about weeds and wheat growing together (Matthew 13:24–30). When the servants asked to pull up the weeds, the master said no, lest they uproot the wheat as well. Let them grow together until the harvest.

That’s not moral laxity. It’s divine patience.

The idealist must learn this kind of patience. Yes, pursue what is right. Yes, call out what is wrong. But walk humbly, stay in the field, and trust the Lord of the harvest to sort things out in time.

Idealism is not the enemy. The world needs it. The world changes because someone refuses to accept injustice, apathy, or spiritual deadness. But idealism must be tempered with grace, anchored and patient with imperfection.

Grace is not a theory but divine truth that Tolstoy grasped only in part because he missed a key element, community.

[i] Ibid., 18.