It was a lifetime achievement recognition ceremony honoring a man whose impact has touched the lives of over 100,000 people. No, that’s not a typo—100,000!

The event grew out of a coaching training session we were conducting for a local futbol ministry. Coaches had come from all over Colombia for the training, and by the last night, they decided to surprise the founder with an impromptu recognition. The founder, however, would have never agreed to such a thing, so we had to keep it a secret.

The founder believed the night would simply involve handing out certificates and delivering the usual thank-yous—routine, typical of such events. Little did he know, a surprise was waiting for him. As he sat in the front row, expecting to watch others receive their recognitions, people began quietly filling the back of the room—people he couldn’t see, of course.

The event director, who was also the organizer, began thanking everyone for attending and talking about the coaches’ course we had just completed. Mostly, though, he was stalling, waiting for the room to fill up.

Once everyone had arrived, the first person to stand and share their testimony was someone whom God had called to Himself through the ministry. That’s when the true purpose of the night was revealed. They called the leader to the front, and as he turned to face the room, his expression of shock and awe is something I will never forget. As he scanned the faces around him, it hit him all at once—the people in the room represented 35 years of ministry and hundreds of thousands of transformed lives.

One by one, person after person shared how God had used the ministry to change their lives, bringing them a joy they never knew was possible. Many of these people were men who had once taken lives, sold drugs, and lived in darkness—only to experience the forgiveness, grace, and love of Jesus. The gentleness, kindness, and joy radiating from them was undeniable evidence of how the love of God can transform even the hardest of hearts.

As I sat there, reflecting on the profound impact one man had made in advancing the Gospel, I felt something stirring within me—my competitive nature. I found myself wishing I could have the same kind of impact—that I could do as much for Christ as this man had. It was an amazing thought, but as I processed it, I realized it was rooted more in pride than in pure desire to serve God. Even in a moment meant to honor someone else, my pride had crept in.

In that moment, I was reminded of something important: God doesn’t measure our worth in numbers or achievements. I prayed that night, asking God to use me for His Kingdom, even if I could only impact a fraction of what this man had. In that prayer, God met me in a way I wasn’t expecting. He reminded me that I am His son—beloved, perfect, cared for and the my identity in Christ is mine and mine alone.  God will use me as He has planned and placed in me and when I stand before Him, He will say, “This is my son, with whom I am well pleased. You have been made righteous through Jesus, my son.”

In the world of sports, there’s a literal scoreboard telling us if we succeeded or failed, if we won or lost, if we’re good or bad. But God sees us differently. He sees us like the prodigal son, who loses everything but is welcomed home with open arms, wrapped in grace and forgiveness that only He can offer.

The event in Medellín served as a powerful reminder of how easily my pride and the lies of the world can distract me from the truth of being God’s adopted son. It also reignited a passion in me to do everything I can to further God’s Kingdom, so that others might experience the joy of being welcomed back, just as the prodigal son was.