AM I SERVING THE LORD OR LOOKING FOR MAN’S RECOGNITION?
I’ll be completely honest with you: this week, I’ve been wrestling.
It usually starts quietly. Someone stops me after service to say they liked the sermon. Or I get a text message out of the blue thanking me for a piece of advice. In our human nature, those moments feel good. They warm you up from the inside.
But if I’m not careful, a subtle, dangerous shift happens in my heart. I start looking for the next compliment. I start measuring the value of my day by whether or not someone noticed what I did.
Lately, as I’ve been sitting with the Lord in the quiet hours when the house is totally still, a heavy question has been staring back at me: Vic, are you truly serving the Lord here, or are you just looking for a pat on the back? [1]
The Spotlight vs. The Secret Place
We live in a culture that is utterly obsessed with titles, platforms, and being seen. Even in our church communities, it’s so incredibly easy to mistake public visibility for actual spiritual impact. [1]
But if there is one thing the Holy Spirit has been reminding me of, it’s that real, kingdom-shaping ministry almost always happens when the cameras are off and the crowds are gone.
It’s stacking the chairs when you’re exhausted and everyone else has driven home. It’s spending your evening praying with tears for a brother who is hurting, knowing nobody else will ever find out. It’s doing the faithful, mundane thing for the hundredth time when absolutely nobody notices. [1]
I must look in the mirror and ask myself: If I do all of that and no one ever says “thank you,” am I still content? Or do I feel a little bit resentful? If I need people to applaud my service to feel fulfilled, then I’m not actually serving God. I’m just using His work as a stage to audition for the approval of man.
A Hard Line in the Sand
The Apostle Paul didn’t mince words about this struggle. In Galatians 1:10, he wrote: “For am I now seeking the approval of man, or of God? Or am I trying to please man? If I were still trying to please man, I would not be a servant of Christ.”
That hits like a ton of bricks. Paul shows us that we cannot serve two masters. We cannot be a slave to public opinion and a faithful servant of Jesus at the same time. Human recognition requires us to perform, to manage our image, and to stay under the lights. Following Jesus requires us to die to ourselves, to carry a cross, and often, to step willingly into the shadows.
Jesus gave us a pretty sobering warning about this too. When talking about people who love to parade their good deeds, He said, “They have received their reward in full” (Matthew 6:1). If we live for the applause of people today, that fleeting moment of human praise is all we are ever going to get. We trade away an eternal “well done” from our Creator just for a temporary ego boost.
What God Is Doing in the Dark
A couple of months ago, I shared a post about how God always focuses on formation before recognition. I firmly believe He cares deeply about building our character in the secret, hidden spaces before He ever trusts us with a public platform.
When we try to rush out of the quiet place because we are desperate to be recognized, we short-circuit the very process God is using to shape our souls. [1]
If you are reading this today and you feel completely invisible in the place where you are serving—whether that’s at church, in your home raising children, or at a workplace where no one appreciates your integrity—please hear me: You are not hidden from God. He sees you.
Checking Our Motives
As I walk through this myself, I’m trying to ask God to test my heart daily with a few honest questions. Maybe they will help you too:
- Does my joy change in secret? If I lose all my motivation to serve the moment, I step out of the spotlight, then I was probably doing it for the crowd all along.
- How do I handle being passed over? When someone else gets the credit, the praise, or the title for something I poured my heart into, do I become bitter and cynical?
- Am I passing the praise along? When human compliments do come, do I hoard them? Or do I immediately hand them over to the Lord in prayer, thanking Him for using someone as unworthy and broken as me?. [1]
My prayer for us this week is that we would become completely content to be forgotten, as long as Jesus is remembered. Let’s stop performing for the crowd and live for the only Audience that truly matters.
I created this space as a welcoming home for candid life discussions, faith, and purposeful community. My journey has been anything but conventional—from navigating childhood moves to Europe, spending 40 years in the printing industry, and living across two vastly different worlds in Zimbabwe and the United States, God has spent decades quietly forming my heart before officially calling me into pastoral ministry. Recently ordained and commissioned as a pastor, I write from a place of real, lived experience, openly sharing the highs of deep faith alongside the raw seasons of depression, doubt, and navigating life’s unexpected detours. Since establishing this journal back in 2005, my mission remains simple: to listen without judgment, share honest testimonies, and encourage you to slow down, press pause, and discover how to shine brightly for Jesus in our everyday lives.