Like many of you, I often get the feeling there is more to life than my first world comforts. More to life than my first world goals. More to life than my first world problems.

Working, just to be able to retire someday, never made any sense to me. Building up my 401(k) didn’t make much sense either. It’s like I’m wasting my life away for something that I will hardly be able to enjoy when I’m 60. This applies even to football. Yes, it’s fun – and it pays well – but sometimes it doesn’t feel like it reaches the innermost parts of my soul. I don’t always feel fulfilled.

As a matter of fact, I rarely feel fulfilled unless I’m in Nigeria. And that’s exactly where I was when I wrote this, in the middle of a village in Africa that still to this day I have yet to see on anyone’s map. I was there seeking and serving the lost and the hopeless. And I was doing it with a group of other people who love God and love others.

Words cannot describe the feelings and thoughts I have as I reminisce on these few days, but all I know is this: my purpose is being lived out when I’m in Nigeria. Football doesn’t matter, 401(k)s don’t matter, opinions don’t matter. Having hot water really doesn’t matter (…well, maybe it matters a little bit).

What matters most is being the hands and feet of Jesus to reach people that are often left behind.