Why I Stay in the Fields

Why are you working side-by-side with the team on mountains, in heat, in danger, in places where most leaders would say their time could be better spent leading or preparing messages to feed the sheep? Don’t you have people to do that now? Couldn’t you be using your time more effectively?

And my answer is always the same—absolutely not.

I don’t stay in the fields because there’s no one else to do the work. I stay because this is where the work speaks. This is where the message is formed. This is where leadership stays honest. This is where the Gospel remains flesh and blood instead of theory. Somewhere along the way, we adopted a quiet belief that leadership graduates out of proximity. That once you reach a certain level, you no longer have to be present. You manage. You delegate. You instruct from a distance. But I don’t see that model in Jesus.

Jesus never left the fields.

He didn’t ascend into hierarchy. He didn’t separate Himself from the mess once His influence grew. Scripture tells us plainly, “The Word became flesh and dwelt among us” (John 1:14). He stayed among fishermen, prisoners of shame, lepers, outcasts, the desperate, the overlooked. He did not lead from above; He led from among. Even when crowds followed Him, He remained reachable. Even when authority was His, proximity was His choice. “The Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve” (Mark 10:45).

There is a dangerous lie in leadership that says, “When you get here, you don’t have to do that anymore.” That lie creates distance. Distance creates distortion. And distortion eventually drains the life out of the message. When leaders leave the fields, the Gospel becomes something they talk about instead of something they walk out. But the fields keep me grounded. The fields keep me dependent. The fields keep me teachable. “God resists the proud, but gives grace to the humble” (James 4:6), and humility is preserved through presence.

Some of the greatest messages I carry were never written in a study. They were lived out in moments I didn’t plan. Conversations that happened while sweating. Truth revealed while listening. Revelation born while loving a street friend. This last season captured that reality perfectly. I was on the side of a mountain where an avalanche had torn through, repairing what was broken. Shovels in hand. Machetes cutting through debris. My phone balanced on a barbed-wire fence post. A headset on my ears. And at the same time—men sitting in jail watching. Teachers such as Mr. Ron in Texas with boots on the ground ministering as well as myself to hurting men. Thousands of miles apart, yet one body, one lesson, one shared moment.

That moment preached louder than any sermon I could have prepared for them men.

The men didn’t just hear about commitment—they saw it. They didn’t just hear about integrity—they witnessed it. They didn’t hear about servant leadership—they watched it lived. Paul said, “Follow me as I follow Christ” (1 Corinthians 11:1). That kind of leadership requires visibility. It requires presence. It requires a life that can be observed, not just explained.

Staying in the fields sends a message without words: The worn out boots on the ground, not just the shining shoes behind the podium matter. The personal touch with hurting people matters. This Gospel is not beneath anyone. Not even the leader. Especially not the leader. Jesus washed feet knowing who He was (John 13:3–5). He didn’t do it because He lacked authority. He did it because He understood it. Authority rooted in love always moves downward, not upward.

The fields protect the heart from becoming a platform. They protect calling from becoming career. They protect mission from becoming machinery. “Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also” (Matthew 6:21). My heart stays in the fields because that’s where God keeps shaping it. That’s where faith stays real. That’s where compassion stays costly. That’s where obedience is daily, not theoretical.

I don’t stay because it looks good. I stay because it’s right. I don’t stay because people are watching. I stay because God is. And I’ve learned this: when leaders remain present, the Gospel remains powerful. When leaders stay in the fields, the message stays alive. I don’t want to teach transformation from a distance or a screen. I want to live in it where it happens.