Paper Tigers

In a world where unemployment is high and opportunities can feel scarce, it’s easy to feel stuck. So many people wait for something or someone to come and change their life. But what if the shift doesn’t come from the outside? What if it begins with how we see our own potential?

There’s a short but powerful instruction that we can look at: “Go to the ant, you sluggard; consider its ways and be wise! It has no commander, no overseer or ruler, yet it stores its provisions in summer and gathers its food at harvest.” (Proverbs 6: 6–8, NIV).

This ancient wisdom paints a picture of the ant – tiny, easily overlooked, yet full of insight. The ant doesn’t wait to be told what to do. It doesn’t depend on a system or a boss or the perfect conditions. It simply works. Quietly. Consistently. Intentionally. It gathers what it can, while it can, knowing that the time for harvest will pass. It’s not driven by fear or panic, but by purpose.

Wisdom is humble and moves steadily forward.

In today’s world, many are forced to become resourceful. Formal employment may be out of reach, but that doesn’t mean we’re without purpose or possibility. If we do what we love, if we build something around our passion, no effort is ever wasted.

Like the ant, our strength lies not in what we have, but in what we choose to do with what we have. A skill. An idea. A small start. It may not look like much, but it can carry us far, especially if we stop waiting for the perfect time and simply begin. 

What stops most of us from beginning isn’t always circumstance. More often, it’s fear. Fear of failure, fear of rejection, fear of getting it wrong. And that’s why Amelia Earhart’s words remain so relevant: “The most difficult thing is the decision to act. The rest is merely tenacity. The fears are paper tigers. You can do anything you decide to do. You can act to change and control your life and the procedure. The process is its own reward.” 

A paper tiger looks fierce, but it’s made of paper. It can’t actually harm us. It only feels threatening.

Most of our fears are just that. They hold shape, but no true substance. And when we see them for what they are, we realize the hardest part was never the work itself. It was making the decision to start.

In 2 Thessalonians 3:10 (NIV), Paul writes: “The one who is unwilling to work shall not eat.” This isn’t said with cruelty, but with clarity. It’s a reminder that action is part of living. If we want change, we must take part in it – not sit back waiting for someone else to write our story. Work, in whatever form we can offer it, is not just about income – it’s about dignity, meaning, and contribution. 

We don’t need a perfect business plan or a groundbreaking invention to start. We just need a spark, a desire to build something, offer something, do something that aligns with who we are and what we care about. We can start small. Offer a service. Make something with our hands. Use our voice, a skill, or experience – even if it feels ordinary.

The ant never questions if it’s doing something great. It just works, and that work sustains it. At the same time, we need to remember that life is not only about producing or surviving. It’s also about enjoying the process. That’s what Amelia Earhart meant when she said, “The process is its own reward.”

There is joy in movement. Fulfillment in effort. Meaning in even the smallest of steps forward. 

Take a moment today and ask yourself:
Am I being held back by real obstacles, or by paper tigers?
Am I waiting for a miracle, or is it time to become the miracle in my own story?

The ant doesn’t wait for certainty. It acts. And so can you.  No matter how limited your resources, no matter how small your beginnings, act with courage, work with purpose, and follow what you care deeply about.

The world needs more people who are alive with purpose, not afraid of paper tigers, and willing to begin with what they have. The time is now. Consider the ant. See through the fear. And begin.

A final thought to consider…

John Steinbeck wrote, “I wonder how many people I’ve looked at all my life and never seen” (from The Winter of Our Discontent). This speaks to the invisibility of ordinary people, everyone who is trying to make a living. Whether someone is selling home-baked goods or offering a humble service, the effort behind that deserves our respect and support. Instead of judgment, let’s choose care and encouragement.

Everyone trying to make an honest living deserves to be seen and valued.