From Opportunity to Obligation: A Journey of Faithful Service with ADRA Australia
Nearly three and half years ago, I made a pivotal decision to leave the world of academia, consultancy, and research—a realm I had known and contributed to with great pride. At the time, several enticing professional opportunities came my way, each promising prestige, influence, and personal advancement. Yet, in the quiet sanctuary of secret prayer, I pleaded with God to reveal His will. I told Him earnestly: “Lord, whichever employer reaches out to me first, I will believe that is where You want me to serve.” ADRA Australia was the first to call. As I put down the phone, other offers flooded in—offers with tempting terms—but I had made a vow. At the time, I consoled myself: “Two years, and I’ll be free to move on.” And yet here I am, four years later, still steadfast in this calling.
So, what made me stay?
To answer this, I must reflect not only on my professional responsibilities, but on the spiritual transformation that took place through this role. At ADRA Australia, one of my core duties is to enhance church engagement. Preaching in local churches and building meaningful connections is considered a measure of impact. From the start, I was compelled to deeply understand the benevolence mandate of the Seventh-day Adventist Church, and ADRA’s unique role as its humanitarian arm.
With this foundation, I began crafting and delivering sermons—messages not confined to theological theory but grounded in community empowerment and lived relevance. These sermons were, by nature, different from traditional SDA homilies I had previously shared. They sought not only to illuminate scripture but also to mobilize believers as active agents of change. I found that congregations respond differently—some to biblical storytelling and emotional depth, others to practical models for action. So, I blended both: spiritual insight with humanitarian urgency.
In those moments of preaching, something stirred. It wasn’t just church engagement—it was soul engagement. I became increasingly aware that the church must not only proclaim grace but also embody it in tangible, transformative ways. I spoke often of collaboration, empathy, and preparedness—not just as abstract virtues, but as spiritual disciplines. Congregations began to see their calling more clearly—to be the salt and the light, not just within the sanctuary but in the streets, the shelters, and the soup kitchens.
Over time, my understanding of this work shifted. It was no longer merely a job. It became a divine moral obligation. And the Spirit, in His faithfulness, affirmed this calling through three powerful themes drawn from scripture.
1. Kindness to the Poor is Worship
Scripture teaches us that every human being, including the poor, is made in the image of God (Genesis 1:27). Their dignity and worth are eternal and untouchable. Galatians 3:28 reinforces this truth—that in Christ, all are one. When I reflect on Proverbs 14:31 (GNB): “If you oppress poor people, you insult the God who made them; but kindness shown to the poor is an act of worship,” I was convicted. Our posture toward the vulnerable is a direct reflection of our reverence for God. A cold, indifferent heart insults the Creator. But a heart moved by compassion, a hand extended in kindness—these are the incense of modern-day worship.
2. Kindness to the Needy is a Command
In Deuteronomy 15:11, we read: “There will always be poor people in the land. Therefore, I command you to be openhanded toward your fellow Israelites who are poor and needy.” This is not a suggestion—it is divine instruction. God, in His sovereignty, did not make everyone equal in possession, but He calls us to radical generosity and intentional care. This command echoes through the corridors of human history. We are not merely philanthropists—we are stewards of God’s resources, distributing them faithfully to those in need.
3. Compassion as the Basis of Final Judgment
Perhaps the most sobering scriptural affirmation came from the parable of the sheep and the goats in Matthew 25. The scene of executive judgment is clear and convicting: “For I was hungry, and you gave me something to eat… I was a stranger and you invited me in… whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me” (vs 35–40). The King identifies Himself not with the mighty, but with the marginalized. And His criteria for separation are not doctrinal precision or religious routine—but the practical outworking of love. That passage pierced me. It turned my boots-on-the-ground gospel work into an eternal imperative.
This perspective reshaped my vision not just for ADRA’s mission, but for my family’s own values and choices. Our acts of charity—through our time, knowledge, and resources—are no longer just helpful contributions. They are declarations of faith. They are sacred rites. They are not separate from salvation—they are evidence of it.
Why I’m Still Here
So, when I reflect on why I’ve remained in this role far beyond what I expected, the answer is simple, yet profound: the gospel work became personal. ADRA Australia became a platform not just for humanitarian service, but for spiritual transformation. I realized that my calling was not defined by opportunity, but by obedience. And obedience, at its core, is worship.
In the SDA tradition, we speak often of the “Three Angels’ Messages” and our call to proclaim the everlasting gospel to every nation, tribe, tongue, and people. But that gospel is not just doctrinal—it is incarnational. It is lived in actions, spoken in kindness, and expressed in justice. Ellen White reminds us that “Christ's method alone will give true success in reaching the people. He mingled with men as one who desired their good.”
This is the essence of my journey. From prayerful surrender to active service, I now know that I’m where I’m meant to be. And though the world of academia and consultancy will always be a part of my formation, ADRA has become a part of my soul.
So, I stay. Not because I must, but because the gospel compels me.
