There is a verse in Scripture that has followed me like a shadow or rather I should say that has followed me like a covering, one that both comforts and confronts me, disciplines and disturbs me. It is what the Apostle Paul said in 1 Corinthians 9:27:
No, I strike a blow to my body and make it my slave so that after I have preached to others, I myself will not be disqualified for the prize.
1 Corinthians 9:27 NIV
I have read that verse countless times; I have quoted it countless number of times, in my private prayer, and in my conversations with friends, family, and others, in fact, what primarily triggered this article is that I just recently quoted that verse of the scripture to Mi Lady, and in the same breath I said something very contradictory, but more recently, I have felt it like a blade, not in a judgmental way though, but in truth. That verse is me; it exposes me; it holds up a mirror, I sometimes I want to avoid, but I want. Because while I have built this blog, ValueFaith, to preach truth, share wisdom, and teach others about God, life, character, discipline, faith, and I self-development, but like many, I am also the one in the background, struggling to live what I have written.
There are days I feel like I am shouting timeless truth with trembling hands; there are nights I reread my own articles, especially the ones under Personal Reflection and feel like they were written by a stronger version of me, a braver version, a holier version.
- I have written and preached about contentment while quietly envying others.
- I have written about self-control while battling compulsive desires.
- I have taught the beauty of discipline while secretly struggling with laziness.
- I have encouraged others not to grow weary while feeling like giving up myself.
And all these while and times, that verse whispers and even sometimes screams in my mind and heart: So that after I have preached to others, I myself will not be disqualified for the prize.
So today I want to come clean; this article is not just another blog post; this is confession, my confession. This is confrontation; this is me telling my tension between public faith and private struggle, between writing truths I believe with all my heart and living them out in a body that still resists being made a slave to Christ. And just like the title; this is me, carrying the weight of my own words.
Lest I Be Disqualified: The Scripture That Haunts and Grounds Me
There are verses that inspire you; there are verses that comfort you; then there are verses that will NOT leave you alone, verses that confront you every time you start to drift and 1 Corinthians 9:27 is that verse for me.
I discipline my body like an athlete, training it to do what it should. Otherwise, I fear that after preaching to others I myself might be disqualified.
1 Corinthians 9:27 NLT
Every time I read those words, I feel a holy fear rise in me, not fear of losing my salvation, but fear of self-deception. Fear of standing before God someday and realizing that I had the right words but the wrong walk; that I had written truth and failed to live it. That I had helped others find clarity while letting myself fall into confusion, and that I had guided people toward spiritual and personal growth and strength while neglecting my own soul.
One of the many reasons I can not shake this verse off is because it perfectly names the tension I live in as someone who writes about faith and self-development. You do not and with all honesty and sincerity of the heart build a blog like ValueFaith without a desire to serve, teach, and encourage others, but along the way, something terrifying can happen: Your public convictions can outpace your private obedience, I know this because I am talking about me here.
I have written articles on discipline, faith, self-denial, calling, gratitude, suffering, spiritual growth, endurance, and God’s purpose. Articles that have touched people, helped them, challenged them; I have received emails, private DMs, VNs and messages from readers thanking me for how my words brought clarity or conviction, and I thank God for that.
But what happens if you are like me and when those very words turn around and ask: “Are you doing this too?”
What happens when the blog post, Facebook post and WhatsApp post you published a month ago becomes a standard you have silently stopped meeting?
That’s why Paul’s words are not just theological to me; they are very very very personal.
The Amplified Bible renders it like this:
But [like a boxer] I strictly discipline my body and make it my slave, so that, after I have preached the gospel to others, I myself will not somehow be disqualified [as unfit for service].
1 Corinthians 9:27 AMP
“Unfit for service,” that phrase hits hard, because when I am inconsistent, when I do not practice what I preach, that is exactly how I feel: Unfit. Not unloved by God! Not abandoned! But not useful! Not qualified! Not living at the level I am calling others to.
And so for that reason, this verse keeps me grounded; it keeps me awake at night; it keeps me coming back to the foot of the cross, not just as a preacher, but as a man in need of grace, of repentance, and of strength. Because I do not just want to be a writer of truth; I want to be a man of it. And this reminds me of a movie I saw some time ago, where a young soldier was asked, begged and commanded to break his standard or rather the standard of God’s words that he held to a very high esteem, and even his Lady begged him to break that same standard, but he refused, in other words, and just like the Apostle Paul, he beat his body, put it under subjection so he himself will not be a cast away according to the standard of God.
Teaching Others, Failing Myself: The Paradox of Public Faith
There is a strange kind of grief that comes with writing things you are not fully living. A quiet, inching sorrow, because when you teach others what is right, good and true, and like me when you write blog posts that call people to a higher life, a deeper obedience, a surrendered walk, you are also building a standard for yourself. And when you fail to meet that standard, it does not just feel like sin; it feels like betrayal.
- Betrayal of your calling.
- Betrayal of your readers.
- Betrayal of your own words.
Not long ago, I wrote an article on “The Passion Paradox: Obsessed or Inspired” urging my dear readers to examine their motives, to test whether their pursuits are God-driven or ego-driven. I remember feeling so clear when I wrote it, so resolved, but days later, I caught myself chasing approval, driven not by passion for purpose, but by fear of irrelevance. I had taught others to be free from that kind of striving and yet there I was, caught in it myself.
It happened again after I published “Less is Luxury: Living Below Your Means is The New Rich.” I wrote passionately about contentment, about resisting materialism, about finding peace in simplicity. And then I had a moment, a real moment where I stared too long at someone else’s success and silently asked: Why not me? And not a motivational kind of way, I would say in a jealous kind of way.
And once again, the verse whispered:
“I beat my body and make it my slave so that after I have preached to others…”
So that I don’t become a cautionary tale. So that I don’t end up preaching a gospel that never reached my own soul.
And this is the paradox of public faith: You teach because you believe! You preach because you care! You write because you want to help! But sometimes, the very act of helping others makes your own failures harder to bear.
And yet, I am still learning and will continue to learn this: Failure does not cancel calling. Falling short does not mean you are finished; Paul did not say he had made his body a slave; he said he makes it. Present tense! Ongoing! The war was not over, it was daily. Just like mine and yours.
There is pain in preaching what you are still struggling to live, but there is also grace, because maybe, not just maybe, I do believe that the struggle itself is part of the message. The fight to be faithful, even when it hurts, is what gives your words weight; the vulnerability of saying: I have not arrived is what keeps you human, and keeps you humble.
When My Blog Becomes My Mirror
My writing on ValueFaith has never just been about putting words out into the world; it has been about shaping a worldview, mine and yours. But somewhere along the way, something not really unexpected began to happen: My blog stopped being just a platform, and started becoming a mirror, and that has been a great thing for me.
Like I said before, there are days I visit my blog just to check stats or review older posts for editing, and again instead, I get confronted. I scroll through the Personal Reflection category, the very section this article will live in, and I am reminded of who I said I wanted to be. Who I challenged others to be, and sometimes, I feel the sharp sting of distance between that person and the one currently looking at the screen.
Each headline feels like a question pointed back at me:
- Beyond the Giving: The Heart of True Generosity: Have I been giving for love or for recognition lately?
- The Highlander Syndrome: There Can Be Only One: Am I still comparing myself to others while preaching about contentment in calling?
- The Paradox of Hate and Bitterness: Have I fully let go of that grudge I swore I surrendered?
- Beyond Happiness: The Purpose-Driven Life: Am I still chasing purpose, or have I been sidetracked by comfort?
It is humbling and honestly, it is also hard, because my blog posts are not abstract essays; they are not just devotionals or motivational speeches. They are declarations! Commitments! Markers of faith! Public records of what I said I believed and how I said I wanted to live.
So when I read them again and feel convicted, I realize: These words are not just teachings, they are tests, at least to me.
- Tests of my consistency.
- Tests of my humility.
- Tests of whether I will just publish the truth or also practice it.
And it is in those moments that 1 Corinthians 9:27 cuts deepest, again.
But I discipline my body and keep it under control, lest after preaching to others I myself should be disqualified.
1 Corinthians 9:27 ESV
Aagin, the word “disqualified” is not just a theological fear; it is emotional and it is deeply personal. It is the fear that I have spoken words with fire and not acknowledged them myself; that I have handed out truth to others and failed to apply the same medicine to my own wounds.
But I am also learning this: The mirror does not lie, shows only what is true, NOT to shame me, but to invite me to grow.
When my blog confronts me like this; it is not to crush me; it is to call me higher, and sometimes, that confrontation is exactly what I need to remember that this work; this life is not just about perfection, it is also very much about persistence.
I Write Truth, But I Wrestle Too
There is a quiet assumption people sometimes make about writers who speak on faith and self-development: That we have mastered what we teach; that if they wrote about it, they must have conquered it. But the truth is, we have not or rather I should speak only for myself, I have not. Not always and not completely, some days I feel like I am living the truth I preach, and other days, I feel like I am barely holding onto it.
- Yes, I write truth and I believe in every word I have published on ValueFaith, but I wrestle too, and I wrestle hard.
- With discouragement. With apathy. With pride. With fear.
- With moments where my convictions feel heavy and my flesh feels loud.
- With mornings where I open and rush through my devotional and feel nothing.
- With nights where I pray out of discipline, not desire.
I wrote about “The Passion Paradox,” encouraging others to examine their motivation, to discern whether they are driven by divine fire or self-fueled ambition. But I have had to read that article again and again for myself, when my heart started craving applause more than purpose. When I could feel the shift from inspiration to obsession, from calling to competition.
And now I am writing “The Weight of My Own Words,” this very piece because I can no longer pretend that writing truth exempts me from the war of living it.
And again; that is why 1 Corinthians 9:27 will not let me go.
I discipline my body like an athlete, training it to do what it should…
1 Corinthians 9:27 NLT
That is not a one-time action; that is a lifestyle and a daily grind, because the body; the flesh, the old nature does not roll over and surrender just because you write good theology, a great article or a post. It must be struck, trained, subdued, and sometimes, the greatest fight is not in preaching or posting; it is in the moments no one sees:
- Choosing prayer over procrastination.
- Choosing doing the work over procrastination.
- Choosing restraint, composure and stillness, over reaction.
- Choosing obedience when convenience offers an easier path.
I Write Truth, But I Wrestle Too:
- I wrestle with all of that; I wrestle with this truth.
- I wrestle because I believe in the truth.
- I wrestle because I care about doing what is right.
- I wrestle with standing for the truth, regardless of how I feel.
- I wrestle because I do not want to just teach, I want to finish well.
Discipline or Disqualification (Regret)
There are only two paths for someone like me, someone who teaches, preaches, writes, and publicly encourages others toward a life of faith and self-control. The path of discipline, or the path of regret. Apostle Paul did not leave a third option, and believe me, I have tried to find one, do not ask me how, Lol.
Okay, this is what I mean: I have tried to write my way around discipline. Tried to motivate myself without the hard work. Tried to ride the momentum of inspiration instead of cultivating daily consistency, but there is no shortcut to this. Not in ministry! Not in character! Not in faith! Not in self-development! There is no other way.
Paul’s words in 1 Corinthians 9:27 drives a sword through my heart almost daily.
Instead, I discipline my body and bring it under strict control, so that after preaching to others, I myself will not be disqualified.
1 Corinthians 9:27 CSB
This is not theoretical; it is real; it is what I feel every time I want to indulge instead of restrain, every time I want to skip prayer, neglect study, avoid repentance, or excuse selfishness.
Discipline or disqualification (regret).
Not because God is angry, but because the cost of neglect is real, because I know how slippery the slope is from being useful to being hollow. From being sharp with words but dull in spirit. From being admired publicly and decaying privately.
It is a war, a daily one, and unlike the polished version of Christianity we sometimes present online, the fight for discipline is rarely pretty. Sometimes it looks like journaling through tears, other times it looks like walking away from temptation before it fully forms, sometimes it is resisting the scroll, the impulse, the laziness, the appetite. And it is not about punishing myself; it is about protecting my soul. It is about refusing to let my platform outgrow my foundation; it is about remembering that I am not just a writer or a teacher; I am a disciple first. A Soldier! A man under orders! A man in need of structure, surrender, sanctification! And consecration! By the Truth! And with the Truth!
When I wrote “Beyond Happiness: The Purpose-Driven Life,” I wanted to help my dearest readers move from emotional highs to anchored living. But I did not realize how often I would need to reread that message for myself, especially when the emotional energy wears off and the only thing left is the choice to persevere. That is when discipline shows up, not as punishment, but as a friend. Not as chains, but as a guide, because without discipline, I drift. And if I drift long enough, I risk becoming the very thing Paul feared: A man who preached to others but ended up disqualified from the race.
You Preach It Well But Can I Live It Fully?
Like I said before, I have heard the compliments.
- Your writing is so convicting.
- That post spoke to my situation exactly.
- You preach it so well.
And here again, I am grateful, deeply. I do not take those words lightly; they remind me that God is using this platform, that ValueFaith is doing what I always prayed it would do: Stir hearts, shape minds, and push people toward Christ, and yes, self-development.
But after the comments fade, after the emails go unread, after the likes and shares settle down; I am left with a much harder question: Can I live it fully?
Not preach it! Not post it! Not write about it eloquently! But Live it.
Because living truth is harder than writing it; it is one thing to craft a sentence that lands and it is another thing to make decisions at midnight that nobody claps for. It is one thing to post about surrender and it is another thing to actually surrender your will, your ego, and your cravings.
I have preached it well, but can I live it fully?
This is the most personal tension I carry, not the fear of hypocrisy, but the reality of incompletion. I do not feel fake; I feel unfinished. In the process, still battling, still learning how to let the Word I share become the life I live.
Sometimes it is embarrassing to admit that I fall short of my own blog. That the man or the elder like some of my friends call me, who wrote an article on emotional maturity can still have a childish response. That the writer who teaches gratitude can still complain in his spirit; that the same person who tells others to take the high road still sometimes fights pettiness in his heart. The good news is that, I am learning to catch myself and make corrections, immediately, and I mean immediately. One of them is the article “How One Small Lie Put A BIG Weight On My Chest.”
But this is the part of ministry people do not always talk about; the gap between proclamation and practice. The sacred space where you are called to be both teacher and student at the same time, and that is where I am. Every day!
So yes, I preach it! Yes, I teach it! Yes, I write it! But more than anything, I want to live it!
Not perfectly, or rather, even perfectly and honestly. Not flawlessly, or rather, even flawlessly and faithfully.
My Words Are Seeds, But I Am Still Soil
I often think about the words I write on ValueFaith like seeds. Each post, each reflection, each encouragement is planted with hope that it will grow in the hearts of my readers and bear fruit in their lives. And I am humbled and grateful when I hear stories of how these seeds have blossomed into changed attitudes, renewed faith, or healed wounds.
And here again is another truth: I am still soil myself.
The soil where those seeds fall, where roots grow, and where life either flourishes or struggles. And soil needs tending; it needs weeding, watering, and breaking up before it can produce a harvest. And sometimes the soil inside me feels rocky, dry, or even hardened.
The battles I write about, discipline, faith, humility, patience are not just concepts; they are ongoing struggles beneath the surface of my heart and mind.
This tension or unease between the seeds I sow and the soil I tend is both painful and necessary; it reminds me that being a preacher, a teacher, or a writer of faith does not exempt me from the daily labor of sanctification and consecration.
Again, Paul’s words in 1 Corinthians 9:27 remind me that discipline is part of that labor:
But I discipline my body and keep it under control, lest after preaching to others I myself should be disqualified.
1 Corinthians 9:27 ESV
If I am going to be a good soil, one that nurtures growth; I must submit to the same discipline I urge in others. I must allow God to cultivate humility, surrender, and endurance within me.
Writing the truth is just the beginning. Living it, letting it transform my heart, is the ongoing work I am called to. And that is the most honest place to be, sowing seeds, tending soil, and trusting God for the harvest.
Grace in the Gaps of My Ministry
If I am honest, there have been moments when I have felt the sharp sting of failure beneath the glow of public ministry. Times when I have looked back at my own writings on ValueFaith and thought: Have I really lived this? Or am I just pretending?
In those vulnerable moments, again, I am reminded of Paul’s warning in 1 Corinthians 9:27 not just about discipline, but about the very real possibility of being disqualified.
I discipline my body and keep it under control, lest after preaching to others I myself should be disqualified.
1 Corinthians 9:27 ESV
It is a mind blowing reality check: To preach faith and yet struggle in doubt. To urge generosity and wrestle with selfishness. To call others to forgiveness while nursing my own wounds.
But this what grace has taught me in those gaps; those spaces where my preaching and practice do not align perfectly: Grace meets me not at my perfection, but in my brokenness.
God’s faithfulness does not depend on my flawless living, but on His unfailing mercy. Even as I wrestle with my inconsistencies, I can rest in the knowledge that His grace covers my shortcomings. That does not give me license to stay where I am, but instead it fuels my desire to press forward, to discipline my body and spirit with renewed vigor. It reminds me that this race is not just about perfect performance, but faithful perseverance.
To my dearest readers who have followed ValueFaith and encouraged me along the way, know this: I am not above the struggles I write about. I am not immune to the very battles that challenge your faith. But I am committed to the fight! To the discipline! To the daily surrender! Because beyond every article, every sermon, and every post lies a man who desperately wants to finish well, who strikes a blow to his own body, making it his slave, so that one day, he will not be disqualified.
Living What I Preach: The Ongoing Journey
If there is one thing I have learnt through my years of writing, teaching, and reflecting, it is that living what I preach is not a destination; it is a journey. A daily, sometimes exhausting, sometimes stressful journey. A process of continual surrender and steadfast discipline.
The words of 1 Corinthians 9:27 shouts loudly on this journey:
I beat my body and make it my slave so that after I have preached to others, I myself will not be disqualified.
1 Corinthians 9:27 NIV
This verse reminds me that the battle is ongoing, that discipline is not a momentary choice but a lifestyle. It reminds me that the pressure I feel is not just from the audience or the platform, but from the deep desire to honor God with integrity in both word and deed, to stand up for the truth regardless of how I feel.
Living what I preach means embracing vulnerability, acknowledging my shortcomings openly, and inviting others to join me not just in my victories but also in my struggles.
It means that every post on ValueFaith, every lesson I share, is an invitation to walk this journey together. Not as perfect teachers, but as fellow learners, pressing toward the goal with humility and hope. So yes, the weight of my own words is heavy, but it is also a sacred responsibility I accept willingly. Because the prize, faithfulness, obedience, and ultimately God’s approval, is worth every struggle, every discipline, every step. Plus a private message not for you, but for Mi Lady: You are worth the wait.
My Reflection: Striving, Surrendering, and Staying the Course
As I bring these reflections to a close, I am reminded that the journey of living what I preach is a tension, but settling and unsettling, walking between striving and surrendering. It is a battle fought with discipline and grace, with sweat and prayer.
Again, Paul’s words in 1 Corinthians 9:27 have been my compass:
But I discipline my body and keep it under control, lest after preaching to others I myself should be disqualified.
1 Corinthians 9:27 ESV
This verse does not just challenge me; it compels me; it calls me to a higher standard, not for the sake of perfection, but for the sake of faithfulness.
- Faithfulness to my readers.
- Faithfulness to the God who entrusted me with this platform.
- Faithfulness to the man I see in the mirror every morning.
- And faithfulness to YOU, PLENTY PLENTY
Paradoxically and I hope I do not confuse you; there might be days I fail; days when my words outrun my walk. But I believe God honors the heart that strives to align the two; the heart that acknowledges its weaknesses and surrenders them again and again.
So, as I continue writing, teaching, and living out my faith through ValueFaith, I carry this truth: The weight of my own words is heavy, but it is also a gift. A gift that drives me to fight, to grow, and to stay the course.
To anyone who reads these words, know this: You are not alone in this struggle. We all wrestle with the tension between preaching and practice, between what we say and what we do, but grace abounds, and the journey continues.
Moreover the law entered, that the offence might abound. But where sin abounded, grace did much more abound:
Roman 5:20 KJV
So I urge and as Apostle Paul would say, I beseech you: May we all press forward, striking blows to our own bodies, disciplining our souls, and living out the truths we proclaim, so that when the race is over, we will stand approved.
Read Also: Why You Should Consistently Do The Work: Be The Boxer
Read Also: The Error In Asking Someone To Love You The Way You Are
Read Also: How Well Do You Handle Correction?
Conclusion
Writing this article has been one of the most honest and vulnerable moments of my journey as a writer and follower of Christ. The truth again is that: The weight of my own words is not just a burden; it is a sacred responsibility that I carry every day; I owe it to God, my dearest readers, and to YOU!
I do not write because I have it all figured out; far from it. I write because I am still learning how to fight the same battles I teach others about. I write because I want to be faithful, not just flawless. I write because I want to live a life where my actions reflect the words I share.
To you, my readers and fellow travelers, I say this: If you ever feel the tension between what you believe and how you live, know that you are not alone. This journey of faith can be messy, imperfect, and often painful, but it is also full of hope, transformation, and God’s unfailing grace.
So let us continue together, striving, surrendering, and pressing forward, holding tightly to the truth we proclaim, the standard and boundaries we set, even when the weight of our own words feels heavy. Because in that struggle, we find the path to true faithfulness and, ultimately, the prize that awaits us, and by us, I mean, YOU AND ME.
THANK YOU FOR CHOOSING TO WALK THIS ROAD WITH ME, LET US DO THIS THE RIGHT WAY, REGARDLESS OF THE EXCITEMENT AND HOW EASY IT MIGHT FEEL TO BREAK BOUNDARIES, STANDARD AND OUR WORDS.
The LORD is God, shining upon us. Take the sacrifice and bind it with cords on the altar.
Psalm 118:27
