The Duty to Finish Strong - Paul Ngandi (part 1)

I recently had an honest conversation with Paul Ngandi about the difference between compassion and completion. Paul is a pastor who served in hospital chaplaincy as day crew on the ship. He is a man of deep empathy and a man of prayer. It is a requirement for his calling, but that same tenderness can sometimes make the operational side of a project difficult to manage.

Paul supports seven street children, providing them with food and clothing. He raised the funds to build and roof a house to give them a permanent home. However, the project has stalled at the finish line. The structure has no plumbing—no toilets, no sinks. When Paul originally had the money set aside for the plumbing, he encountered other children in immediate, desperate need. He chose to repurpose the funds to help them. It was a kind act, but it left the house as a shell.

The almost completed house (minus plumbing).

We talked about the importance of finishing what you start. You cannot provide a stable, long-term home for seven kids without a working bathroom. But more than that, I want him to finish before moving onto any other dreams or goals. The plumbing project requires approximately $1,300 to complete. We are helping Paul refocus on this specific goal because the church is at its best when it provides a safe, finished place for the vulnerable to rest.

Paul’s hospitality is as real as his vision. Last year, I had the privilege of visiting his church for a service and joining him, his sister, and her family for lunch afterward. I have so much more than they do, and yet they graciously gifted me what little food they had. That small, spicy potato dish with plenty of pepper sauce was a huge gift—one I will not soon forget.

Joining Paul's church

Paul's sister, his niece, and me.

In my time with Paul, I learned something about Sierra Leonean prayers. Paul almost always begins by saying, "Thank you, Lord, that we are alive today, because there are many people who did not wake up." At first, it seemed quite morbid to me. Then I realized the reality of life here. People die frequently, often suddenly, and without a clear cause. Funerals are a common rhythm. Paul’s prayer isn't dark; it’s an earned gratitude. It has taught me to stop taking the next twenty-four hours for granted. Even when my back hurts I stub my toe, or I don’t get what I want, I can be grateful for one more day.