In 2 Kings 18 we meet one of the brightest lights in Judah’s royal lineup—King Hezekiah. His résumé is impressive enough to make even David smile. The record of his life reads like an eternal epitaph: “He was twenty-five years old when he became king. He reigned twenty-nine years. He did what the Lord regarded as right… He put his trust in Yahweh. No king of Judah, before or after, was equal to him. He was devoted to Yahweh, never turning from Him, but keeping the commandments which Yahweh laid down for Moses. And so the Lord was with him, and he was successful in all that he undertook.” If you’re looking for a definition of success, this is it—trust God, obey His Word, and don’t wander off the path. Hezekiah didn’t just talk about faith; he lived it with integrity, consistency, and courage.
The text makes a simple but powerful point: obedience to God’s commandments—specifically the Ten Commandments—is the foundation of fellowship with Him and the key to a meaningful, successful life. That’s not a popular message in a world where “success” usually means “more stuff.” The contrast between Hezekiah’s priorities and modern values is striking. It reminds me of Ray Stevens’ song from the 1970s, “Mr. Businessman.” It’s a satirical anthem about people chasing material gain while losing their souls in the process. Stevens sings,
“Itemize the things you covet as you squander through your life,
Bigger cars, bigger houses, term insurance for your wife…”
and it only goes downhill from there. The song paints a vivid picture of a man who’s achieved everything except happiness. He’s busy “taking care of business,” but his life is hollow—his children grow up without him, his ethics are optional, and his ulcers are permanent. By the time his “final inventory” is taken, all that’s left is an autograph and an epitaph.
Hezekiah’s story and Stevens’ song make an odd but perfect pair. Both warn that a life devoted to anything other than God ends up empty. Hezekiah’s wealth wasn’t counted in gold but in faithfulness. He didn’t just “qualify to be alive,” as Stevens put it—he really lived. His success wasn’t synthetic, and his peace didn’t come from an “eighty-six proof anesthetic.” It came from obedience, trust, and devotion. In a world still full of “Mr. Businessmen,” Hezekiah stands as a refreshing reminder that the real business of life is walking with God.