Why do You Do What You Do?

1 Corinthians  9:16  Yet when I preach the gospel, I cannot boast, for I am compelled to preach. Woe to me if I do not preach the  gospel! (17) If I preach voluntarily, I have a reward; if not  voluntarily, I am simply discharging the trust committed  to me.

It is with pleasure that I can report that my recent, second trip to Nigeria has borne much fruit. My partner, Jeff Witzke, and I were rewarded by the many pastors and leaders we taught who told us how they were blessed by our teachings on leadership and finance. We both spoke to pastors and students graduating from their first year of training at Rev. Ebenezer Oke's Life Development Centre. My charge to those graduates was the same as my challenge to you today: “Why do you do what you do?”

This is a valid question for ministry leaders and business leaders, and so I ask again: why do you do what you do? Is it your calling? Is it for selfish ambition? Are you “compelled to” out of obedience? Is it simply out of love for what you are doing? Or do you dislike what you are doing and continue to do it because you feel you are just stuck?

Compelled to Preach the Gospel

There are two things I dislike, no, detest: heat and humidity. I still await the day that the Lord will use me in northern Wisconsin in the winter. In the meantime, I continue to travel and teach while experiencing what I detest. In the first few days of each of my last three trips to Africa, I have inwardly committed never to come back. Along with the heat and humidity, I feel the poverty intensely—an overwhelming and potent feeling of helplessness. Why go back? What can one average American leader/teacher do?

"As a leader, I share one thing with Paul—I return to Africa because I am compelled to do so." 


Paul laments his lost rights as an apostle when he states in 1 Corinthians 9:17, “Yet when I preach the gospel, I cannot boast, for I am compelled to preach. Woe to me if I do not preach the gospel! If I preach voluntarily, I have a reward; if not voluntarily, I am simply discharging the trust committed to me.” As a leader, I share one thing with Paul—I return to Africa because I am compelled to do so. I wish I could boast and say that I do it voluntarily. That would be a lie. I, like Paul, worry about rejecting the powerful inner work of the Holy Spirit in my life. Woe to me if I do not return when I am able.

Why I Do What I Do

I remember my last day teaching during this most recent trip. As I spoke to the pastors and students about their futures, I consciously could not believe the words that were coming out of my mouth, “wh …whe... when I return….” I could not believe what I was saying. Return? Here? Again? Then something else happened (again). At the end of this trip, like at the end of each, I gazed into the eyes of people hungry, not for the food of the stomach, but for the knowledge God gave us to deliver. The personal testimonies of gratitude given to us, as well as the hospitality of an African that it takes 10 Americans to match, raise a level of compassion within me that surpass the temperature and humidity. I love Rev. Ebenezer Oke and what he is doing at the Life Development Centre in Nigeria. I love every one of the Nigerians I met. And I feel great empathy when gazing intently into the eyes of their children, as I silently pray for God’s blessing upon their futures.

"At the end of this trip, like at the end of each, I gazed into the eyes of people hungry, not for the food of the stomach, but for the knowledge God gave us to deliver."

Eventually, I basked in the air conditioning of the British Airways 747 as it began our trip home. On the one hand, I found contentment in enduring another trip to an environment I detest. On the other hand, I found great guilt in comparing what I “endured” to the price Christ suffered and paid for me, or even to the daily challenge of Rev. Ebenezer Oke and those he leads. In the big picture, we as Americans have yet to suffer for Christ.

That is why I do what I do, and I thank God for each of you who help me do it.

Let there be NO guilt if you have not traveled to Africa. However, I must ask you again: Why do you do what you do?