Feeling Overlooked?
Posted: Thu Feb 19, 2026 1:02 am
Feeling Overlooked?
Ecc 9:17, the Poor Wise Man No One Remembered
Look at verse 17 of Ecclesiastes: “Words of the wise, spoken quietly, should be heard rather than the shout of a ruler of fools.” Notice carefully what the text does not promise. It does not say the words of the wise will be heard. It says they should be. Solomon is not describing heaven; he is describing life under the sun—life in a broken human system where volume often overrides substance, where authority can shout, and where the loudest presence in the room frequently wins attention whether it carries truth or not. This scripture is not a command to strain harder, speak louder, or force yourself into the conversation so wisdom cannot be ignored, but it’s a validation that you can, in fact, be wise and still not be listened to. That reality is not a verdict on your value, nor is it proof that your wisdom is lacking. It is simply an honest observation about how fallen systems operate.
Then Solomon gives us the picture of the poor wise man who delivered the city. He did what was necessary. He applied wisdom at the right moment. Yet he did not control whether he was remembered. That is the quiet freedom embedded in the passage. You are not responsible for being remembered; you are responsible for being faithful.
Verse 18 reinforces this by declaring that “wisdom is better than weapons of war.” Weapons of war are forceful tactics—pushing your way into conversations, winning arguments, proving competence, matching intensity with intensity. But wisdom does not fight like that. Wisdom may speak once and stop. Wisdom may speak calmly and release the outcome. Wisdom may even remain silent and let events unfold. Its strength is not in domination but in discernment.
There is nothing terrible about the desire to be noticed as wise; it is deeply human. Yet the scripture gently exposes something liberating: wisdom does not require applause in order to remain wisdom. If you speak when necessary and the city is helped but no one remembers your contribution, you are still wise. If you are not asked and you remain silent, you are still wise. If someone shouts and you remain steady, you are still wise.
When the text says the words of the wise are “spoken quietly,” it reveals something profound about tone. Quiet does not mean weak. It does not mean timid. It means free from aggression, free from defensiveness, and free from hidden demand. The words are simply offered and then released. That posture carries an authority that does not compete. It is the kind of leadership energy that steadies a room without needing to control it!
Ecc 9:17, the Poor Wise Man No One Remembered
Look at verse 17 of Ecclesiastes: “Words of the wise, spoken quietly, should be heard rather than the shout of a ruler of fools.” Notice carefully what the text does not promise. It does not say the words of the wise will be heard. It says they should be. Solomon is not describing heaven; he is describing life under the sun—life in a broken human system where volume often overrides substance, where authority can shout, and where the loudest presence in the room frequently wins attention whether it carries truth or not. This scripture is not a command to strain harder, speak louder, or force yourself into the conversation so wisdom cannot be ignored, but it’s a validation that you can, in fact, be wise and still not be listened to. That reality is not a verdict on your value, nor is it proof that your wisdom is lacking. It is simply an honest observation about how fallen systems operate.
Then Solomon gives us the picture of the poor wise man who delivered the city. He did what was necessary. He applied wisdom at the right moment. Yet he did not control whether he was remembered. That is the quiet freedom embedded in the passage. You are not responsible for being remembered; you are responsible for being faithful.
Verse 18 reinforces this by declaring that “wisdom is better than weapons of war.” Weapons of war are forceful tactics—pushing your way into conversations, winning arguments, proving competence, matching intensity with intensity. But wisdom does not fight like that. Wisdom may speak once and stop. Wisdom may speak calmly and release the outcome. Wisdom may even remain silent and let events unfold. Its strength is not in domination but in discernment.
There is nothing terrible about the desire to be noticed as wise; it is deeply human. Yet the scripture gently exposes something liberating: wisdom does not require applause in order to remain wisdom. If you speak when necessary and the city is helped but no one remembers your contribution, you are still wise. If you are not asked and you remain silent, you are still wise. If someone shouts and you remain steady, you are still wise.
When the text says the words of the wise are “spoken quietly,” it reveals something profound about tone. Quiet does not mean weak. It does not mean timid. It means free from aggression, free from defensiveness, and free from hidden demand. The words are simply offered and then released. That posture carries an authority that does not compete. It is the kind of leadership energy that steadies a room without needing to control it!