I Chose The World and Lost My Soul

 

Pastor Joe 

Pastor Joe Chung had been a pastor for sixteen years. It had been a hard road. In all that time, his church had never grown beyond a small handful of faithful members. He could count them on one hand. The emptiness of the pews broke his heart. Night after night he would weep alone, crying out to God, “Why is this happening to me? How can I stand on the pulpit for sixteen years and still have so few people? What am I doing wrong? Why haven’t You blessed my church? Why am I still struggling while others seem to prosper?”

The one person who never stopped believing in him was his mother. She would hold him close, wipe his tears, and pray over him. “God’s time is the best, my son. Be patient. The Bible says Sarah waited, and God gave her a son. Trust Him.”

But Pastor Joe was tired. “I’m fed up with this frustration, Mom. How can I serve God and still live like a beggar? I see other pastors driving nice cars, living in big houses, and their churches are full. Why not me?”

“My son, don’t talk like that. God is good all the time. Never doubt Him. Just be patient and trust in the Lord with all your heart, and you will see His wonders.”

She would lay her hands on his head and pray for God to strengthen him, to remove the doubt, and to bless his ministry. And for a little while, he would feel better.

Pastor Joe Chung was only thirty-five. He had felt the calling at sixteen and had been serving faithfully ever since. But the years of struggle were wearing him down.

One day he noticed a new church being built just a few blocks from his own. The construction moved fast. In three months, it was finished—beautiful, modern, with a big parking lot and bright lights. Pastor Joe looked at his own worn-out building and whispered a quiet prayer.

When the new church opened, it filled up quickly. Within a month, it was packed every Sunday. Some of Pastor Joe’s own members even started going there. The pain cut deep, but he decided to meet the new pastor.

His name was Pastor Jack. Pastor Joe opened up to him. “I’ve tried everything to grow my church, but nothing works. How did you do it? Your place is full already.”

Pastor Jack smiled and said, “There’s always a way, if you’re willing to do what it takes.”

“Tell me the way,” Pastor Joe pleaded. “I want to drive a nice car, live in a good house. Look at this suit—I’ve worn it for years.”

Pastor Jack leaned in. “Do you really want to know?”

“Yes,” Pastor Joe said, voice shaking with hope.

“Then meet me tonight at midnight.”

That night, Pastor Joe slipped out while his mother slept and met Pastor Jack. They drove in silence for hours until they reached a quiet office in a wealthy part of town. Inside, Pastor Jack introduced him to a group of sharp-dressed men who ran a network of large, fast-growing churches. They offered Pastor Joe a deal: join their organization, follow their “growth strategies,” and his church would explode in size. The catch? He would have to adopt their methods—aggressive marketing, high-pressure giving, emotional manipulation during services, and partnerships with businesses that wanted influence in the congregation. It wasn’t illegal, but it wasn’t honest either.

Pastor Joe hesitated. “What about my mother? She’s the one who taught me to trust God’s timing.”

The men smiled. “She’ll understand when she sees you succeed.”

He thought of the empty pews, the faded suit, the years of struggle. He signed the papers.

Within weeks, his church began to grow—rapidly. Members poured in. Money flowed. He bought a big house, new suits, a luxury car. People called him successful. But something inside him felt wrong.

Then came the first demand: push harder on “seed faith” offerings, even from struggling families. He did it. The money grew, but so did the guilt.

Two years later, the pressure increased. They wanted him to cut ties with his mother—she was still telling people to be patient, to trust God, and that was bad for business. “She’s holding you back,” they said.

Pastor Joe argued, but the men were firm. They offered him an ultimatum: distance himself from her influence, or lose everything they had built.

He chose the money.

His mother noticed the change. She saw the new house, the new car, the full church, but also the emptiness in her son’s eyes. She begged him to come back to the simple faith they once shared. He pushed her away. One day she left quietly, heartbroken. Not long after, she passed away.

Pastor Joe told himself it was worth it. But deep down, he knew the truth.

His church kept growing, but the joy was gone. Members came for the show, not the Savior. Donations were big, but so were the complaints. Scandals started to leak out. People left. The money slowed. The big house felt cold and empty.

He went back to Pastor Jack for answers.

“Everything is falling apart,” he said. “I did what you asked. Why now?”

Pastor Jack shrugged. “This is the game. You want to stay on top, you have to keep giving more. More pressure, more compromise, more silence. That’s the price.”

Pastor Joe left angry and broken. He sat alone in his big house, looking at old photos of his mother and the small church he once loved. He thought about her words: “God’s time is the best.” He had traded her love, her wisdom, and his integrity for a success that now felt hollow.

He had lost his mother. He had lost his wife, who left when she saw what he had become. He had lost the quiet joy of serving God with a clean heart.

One night, he wrote a long letter to an old friend he had avoided for years. In it, he confessed everything—the compromises, the pressure, the way he had hurt the people who loved him most. He asked for forgiveness and wrote that he was done with the shortcuts. He wanted to return to the simple faith his mother had taught him.

A few months later, Pastor Joe Chung passed away quietly. His letter was shared, and his story became a warning: real success cannot be bought with compromise. The fastest way forward is often the path that leads you farthest from God and from the people who matter most.

In the end, Pastor Joe learned the hardest lesson: you can gain the whole world and lose your soul. And once you lose the ones who truly loved you, no amount of money or members can fill the emptiness.

What would you do if you were offered the same choice?