I was deep in a Hebrew word study tonight when an uncomfortable thought hit me: Am I doing this for God or for me?

The question came while I was researching the poetic structure of a psalm, marveling at how English translations miss so much of the original artistry. It's the kind of work I love: diving into lexicons, discovering hidden layers of meaning, feeling that rush when a verse suddenly blazes with new significance.

But then I caught myself wondering: Would I still do this if no one ever saw it? If it never became a post, never got shared, never earned a single comment of appreciation?

The honest answer was yes, but the fact that I hesitated for even a moment made me uncomfortable. I do love diving into Scripture for its own sake. I do feel compelled to share what I discover. But if I'm being completely honest, there's also a part of me that enjoys the engagement, appreciates the encouragement, and yes, loves that this work might help provide for my family.

It's not that the income or recognition drives me. It's that they've become tangled up with my genuine love for God's word in ways I didn't expect.

This is the question I think every Christian worker (pastors, writers, volunteers, even those of us doing ministry online) eventually has to face: How do we know if we're seeking God's kingdom or building our own?

It's not as easy to answer as it sounds. The line between serving God and serving ourselves gets blurry fast, especially when you're doing good work that people appreciate. When your biblical posts get engagement, when people thank you for your insights, when you start feeling like you're actually making a difference, that's when the heart's capacity for self-deception kicks into overdrive.

I've worked through the question of whether platform building can be biblical stewardship (it can be, when it serves kingdom purposes rather than personal empire). But knowing the what is different from examining the why. Even when our work is legitimately kingdom-focused, our daily motivations can still get tangled up with pride, approval-seeking, and self-interest.

What I keep coming back to is this: sin doesn't just permeate our actions; it permeates our motives. Even our best intentions get tangled up with pride, approval-seeking, and yes, financial concerns.

This is the evil in everything that happens under the sun: The same destiny overtakes all. The hearts of people, moreover, are full of evil and there is madness in their hearts while they live, and afterward they join the dead. (Ecclesiastes 9:3 NIV)

That includes the hearts of people doing Christian ministry. That includes my heart when I'm studying Scripture or writing about faith.

The very essence of what's inside us that isn't surrendered to the Holy Spirit is, as Scripture says, in opposition to truth. Which means I have to constantly examine not just what I'm doing, but why I'm doing it.

So I've started asking myself some hard questions during my daily routines:

When I interact with my family, am I seeing them with the plank in my own eye, or with a vision of the Holy Spirit in them?

When I write about faith, am I building His kingdom or building my platform?

When I choose what to study or share, am I following divine leading or chasing engagement metrics?

These aren't one-time questions. They're daily, sometimes hourly examinations. Because the heart is deceitful above all things, and without constant spiritual inventory, I'll convince myself that everything I do is for God when really it's about me.

But there's hopeful truth in all this: examination isn't meant to be spiritually crushing. Jesus said His yoke is easy and His burden is light (Matthew 11:28-30). The goal isn't perfect motives; it's honest recognition of mixed motives and ongoing surrender.

When I catch myself writing more for likes than for love, I don't have to spiral into guilt. I can confess it, realign my heart, and adjust course appropriately. When I realize I've been more concerned with building my reputation than building people up, I can repent and start fresh.

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”

(Matthew 11:28-30 NIV)

What keeps me grounded is remembering that everything I do is seen from God's eyes. Not in a fearful way, but in a way that brings clarity. When I remember that my audience is ultimately Him, the other metrics (views, comments, even income) become secondary.

One measure of a good Christian, I think, is to reflect on these types of things regularly, but not lose sight of our born-again nature and God's ever-loving grace for us.

The work itself can be legitimate kingdom service, but that doesn't automatically make every moment of motivation pure. The moment any ministry becomes primarily about personal validation or building reputation rather than building up the body of Christ, it becomes spiritual selfishness dressed up in religious language.

As I think about this ongoing tension, I wonder: How many of us doing Christian work have asked ourselves these uncomfortable questions lately? How many times do we assume good outcomes mean pure motives?

Maybe the most radical thing we can do is bring our mixed motives directly to God with ruthless honesty. Not to earn points for self-awareness, but because authentic kingdom work can only flow from hearts that are being continuously refined by divine fire.

Because when people see the difference Christ makes in our lives, it shouldn't be our polish they notice. It should be our authenticity about how much we still need grace.

What about you? Have you wrestled with mixed motives in your own service or ministry? How do you examine your heart without falling into condemnation? I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments.

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