Troy P Zehnder

It is an interesting question when you really stop and think about it. Why do we work so hard? Why do we create? Why do we help people? Why do we post online? Why do we chase success? Why do we keep going when life gets difficult? At first, most of us think we know the answer.

We say it is because we are passionate. Because we care. Because we love people. Because we have goals. Because we want to make a difference. And sometimes those answers are true. But life has a way of testing our motives in ways we never expect.

Sometimes the real answer is only revealed when the applause disappears. When nobody notices the effort. When the promotion never comes. When the post gets ignored. When the business struggles. When the people you thought would support you stay silent. When you pour your heart into something… and hear nothing back.

That is where things get difficult.

Because encouragement matters. Human beings are built for connection, acknowledgment, and love. There is nothing wrong with wanting someone to say, “I’m proud of you,” or “What you’re doing matters.”

But there is a difference between appreciating encouragement and depending on it. If the only reason we do something is for applause, silence will eventually destroy our motivation. That is why Scripture spends so much time addressing the condition of the heart and the motives behind our actions.

Proverbs 16:2 says: “All a person’s ways seem pure to them, but motives are weighed by the Lord.”

That verse is uncomfortable because it forces us to look inward. Sometimes we think we are chasing purpose when we are really chasing validation. Sometimes we think we are serving others when we are actually searching for recognition. Sometimes we say we are doing something out of love, but deep down we are hoping it finally makes us feel seen.

And honestly, most of us have probably lived in all of those places at one time or another.

Social media has amplified this struggle in ways previous generations never experienced. We live in a world where likes, follows, shares, and views have become emotional scoreboards. Silence can feel personal. A lack of response can feel like rejection. But Jesus warned about this mentality long before social media ever existed.

In Matthew 6:1, He said: “Be careful not to practice your righteousness in front of others to be seen by them…”

That does not mean recognition is evil. It means our identity cannot depend on being noticed. Because if attention becomes the reason we do something, then eventually the absence of attention will convince us to quit. I think this is why so many people walk away from dreams, ministries, businesses, relationships, creative passions, and callings. Not necessarily because they failed, but because invisibility became emotionally exhausting.

The hardest season in life is often not failure. It is feeling unseen. Yet some of the most meaningful things we will ever do in life may happen quietly. No applause. No headlines. No viral moment. No recognition. Just obedience. Consistency. Integrity. Faithfulness.

Colossians 3:23 reminds us: “Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for human masters.”

That changes everything.

Because when purpose is rooted only in human approval, our motivation rises and falls with public opinion. But when purpose is rooted in conviction, faith, love, growth, or calling, we can continue even during seasons where nothing seems to come back in return.

Some people are motivated by money. Some by fame. Some by love. Some by fear. Some by insecurity. Some by purpose. But eventually life reveals the truth. Sometimes we do not truly discover why we were doing something, until nobody notices we did it.

And maybe that is not always a bad thing. Because sometimes silence exposes motives. But sometimes silence also purifies them.

1 Corinthians 15:58 says: “Always give yourselves fully to the work of the Lord, because you know that your labor in the Lord is not in vain.”

Not every meaningful thing produces immediate results. Not every seed grows overnight.
Not every act of faithfulness gets celebrated publicly. But that does not mean it was meaningless. Sometimes the value of what we do cannot be measured by applause at all.