Over the years, I’ve heard complaints about almost everything we’ve done at Church.

The music isn’t modern enough, or it’s too modern. The auditorium looked better the old way. “You should change that.” “Why did you change that?” Sometimes it is “I could do that better,” or “you really didn’t do that well.”

There is always someone asking for change and someone else fighting to keep everything the same. One person comes with high expectations; another comes with a high level of frustration. No decision makes everyone happy. Sometimes it feels like every move makes everyone unhappy.

I’ve spent much of my ministry disappointing someone while trying to move the Church forward for the sake of Jesus.

The truth is nothing I do is perfect; far from it. I’m simply doing the best I can with the wisdom, experience, and gifts God has given me. I’m grateful to serve alongside people who are willing to use their own gifts for God’s glory. Together we pray, think, plan, and work to make our Church the very best it can be.

The real challenge isn’t imperfect leadership; it’s unused gifts.

Too many people would rather critique than contribute. The Church doesn’t need more spectators pointing out flaws. It needs more servants willing to offer what God has entrusted to them. God has never required perfection. He asks for faithfulness and willingness.

One of the most encouraging truths in Scripture is that God takes our imperfect offerings and uses them for His perfect purposes. He fills in the gaps of our abilities and knowledge. He multiplies what we place in His hands.

If the kingdom of God is going to continue advancing, every believer must be willing to use their gifts, even imperfectly. Critics will always have preferences, and they’ll always find flaws. But God delights in using willing people for His glory.

Availability has always been more important than ability.

In the United States, we have this amazing phenomenon. People will visit a Church community one time and then decide if it is the right one for them.

I am not so concerned about Christians who come to check us out. Most of them will move on and find another place to worship.

What does bother me are those non-believers who show up and are trying to decide if they want to make God, the Church, or faith a part of their life. This Sunday might be the week that someone takes their first step on their journey with Jesus. It might also be a stumbling block that keeps them from progressing.

This is what keeps me up at night. This is what I pray about every single week. This is why I work so hard to make sure my sermons are clear, educational, and engaging.

Thankfully, God has placed me into a community of believers who are also seeking to make an impact on the lives of others. Each week, I pray that if people are not engaged with the sermon, they will connect with a believer and be encouraged by their faith. I ask God for our greeters to be friendly, for our children’s workers to be prepared, and for our community to shower new people with love and attention.

Each week might be our only chance to share Jesus with certain people. I am so thankful that it is not merely MY only chance, but that we are in this together as a Church and the weight falls on all our shoulders. I need you. We need each other. Together we can touch lives for eternity.

I frequently laugh at the person I have become. I used to be a night owl and think midnight was the right time to sleep. Then I would get up with barely enough time to shower and head out the door to work.

Over the past five years, I have completely changed, and now I am an early bird. Most days I am up around 4 am and in bed between 8- 9 p.m. After my children were all out of the house, it was amazing how quiet the mornings became.

I rise early, often taking a walk with my wife. Next, I shower, get dressed, and head to the office. Once there, I have discovered that no one bothers me. I can spend time in silent prayer, listening to Scripture and getting my heart right for the day. External distractions are very few. I do have to quiet my mind and not give in to the pull of the internet, especially social media.

During those early morning hours, I am the clearest in my thinking, and my creativity level is high. I can write sermons, and often this is when I write these blogs. For me, from 4 to 9 am is the most productive time of my day. If I start each day with this energy, then the rest of the day takes care of itself as I am relaxed to have meetings, conversations, text, email, and complete the busy work that comes every week.

If I can win the morning, then I can win the day.

I suggest that if you are struggling in your creativity, production, or ability to complete tasks, then try getting up earlier. This includes if you are having a hard time with prayer, Bible reading, and your walk with God. Maybe those quiet hours of the morning can get your heart right before you start another day.

When I was a kid, the Army ran an advertisement that said, “We do more before 9 am than most people do all day.” Back then, I thought, “No thank you.” Now that I am an adult, I understand what they were saying; I embrace it with, “Yes, I am there with you.”

Surprisingly, this phrase dates back to the 16th century and was originally used in reference to the theater. Actors were expected to pay attention to the mood of the audience as they delivered their lines.

Thieves also used the concept in the 1800s and early 1900s. They had to scan a room to identify their next victim or determine whom to avoid. By the 1970s, public speakers used the phrase to describe gauging an audience’s willingness to listen. By the 1990s, it had become a core leadership skill for business professionals who needed to read nonverbal cues during presentations.

It is this last use that I often share with people who want to tell others about Jesus. One of the keys to sharing your faith effectively is learning to “read the room.” You need to recognize when someone has opened the door for a spiritual conversation and when their body language says they are finished listening.

Sadly, I learned this lesson by making plenty of mistakes. There were times I stayed silent when I should have spoken, and other times I kept talking long after the other person had stopped listening. I have made just about every mistake a person can make when sharing their faith, and I try to use those experiences to help others. My biggest piece of advice is simple: read the room.

When you understand your audience and how they are receiving what you are saying, you will know when to continue and when to stop. Speaking for Jesus is not about saying everything I want to say; it is about helping someone hear what they need to hear. Once they stop listening, continuing to talk can undo much of the goodwill you have built.

This fall, our Church is asking people to share their story with at least three people in their lives. I am praying that many will take that step. But they will need to be “as wise as serpents” as they speak, or their words may fall on deaf ears.

I was offering some wise counsel to someone in our church. After listening to them describe a struggle in one of their relationships, I began explaining what they could do to improve the situation. I shared principles, practical steps, and what I believed would help.

Then, as the words were leaving my mouth, a quiet thought interrupted me.

I honestly believe it was the Holy Spirit speaking to my conscience.

“You should take your own advice.”

I paused for a moment to gather my thoughts about them, then continued talking. I offered a few more thoughts, a little more wisdom, and another suggestion or two.

Again, the quiet voice whispered,

“Those are great ideas. You should try them.”

By the time our conversation ended and they left, I wasn’t thinking nearly as much about their situation as I was about my own.

I sat there alone and prayed, “Lord, help me become the person I encourage others to be.”

It’s amazing how easy it is to recognize what someone else should do while overlooking the same need in our own lives. Sometimes the best sermon we preach, the best advice we give, or the wisest counsel we offer is actually meant for us first.

Every Monday morning, I feel incredibly grateful for the events of the previous day. On Sunday, hundreds of little things happen before, during, and after our worship service that most people will never notice.

Someone unlocked the doors. Someone made the coffee. Someone prepared the communion. Someone greeted guests. Someone ran the sound booth and the slides. Someone held babies, taught children, prayed with hurting people, cleaned up spills, picked up trash, and stayed late after everyone else had gone home.

Most of these acts will never receive applause. They don’t happen on a stage. They happen behind the scenes.

More than that, some people made decisions quietly in their soul that will impact their future, their family, and possibly everyone they know. Some people gave a financial gift for the first time. Someone else prayed like they never have before. There were dozens of spiritual breakthroughs that it might take years to see.

And that’s exactly how the Kingdom of God works.

Every week I am thankful. Thankful for the people who served and the way God used them. Ministry is rarely glorious, yet God uses our efforts to change the world quietly, unnoticed by most.

I love starting my week with the people of God being the kingdom of God on earth.

How do you define a successful ministry?

It is a question I wrestle with constantly.

Does attendance measure success? Is a successful ministry one that attracts a lot of people? If so, what qualifies as “a lot of people”? More than the Church across town? More than last year? More than others in the denomination?

Or is success measured by biblical knowledge? Is it enough for people to attend faithfully, or must they also grow in their understanding of Scripture? How much knowledge is enough? The New Testament? The whole Bible? More than they knew a year ago? More than the Church down the road?

Maybe the real metric is involvement. How many people are in small groups? How many have gone through a membership class? But what if they attend every program without actually becoming more like Jesus?

Leading a church forces me to wrestle with these questions because every ministry is aiming at something. Every Church has a definition of success, whether it is stated or assumed.

The truth is that you do too.

You have a metric that shapes how you evaluate a Church. It influences which Churches you admire, which ministries you celebrate, and which ones you overlook. It affects where you worship, where you serve, and where you give your money.

The metric you use matters more than you realize. It quietly shapes your expectations, your priorities, and ultimately your understanding of what God is trying to accomplish through His Church.

The older I get, the more I find myself saying, “If I understand it correctly…”

That isn’t because I’ve become less convinced of the truth. It’s because I’ve become more aware of my own limitations.

There was a time when I thought confidence was measured by how quickly I could answer a question. Now I think wisdom is often measured by how carefully I speak. None of us sees the whole picture. We are finite people trying to understand an infinite God.

That doesn’t mean truth is unknowable. It means humility should accompany our convictions.

I’ve noticed that Jesus asked far more questions than he answered. He invited people to think, wrestle, and discover. He certainly spoke with authority, but he also displayed remarkable patience with people who were still figuring things out.

I wonder what our conversations would look like if we started more sentences with, “If I understand it correctly…” We might listen a little longer. We might ask one more question before offering our opinion. We might discover that the person across from us isn’t as wrong as we first assumed.

As Christians, we should be the most confident people in the world about who Jesus is and some of the most humble people in the world about ourselves.

After all, salvation isn’t based on the perfection of my understanding. It’s based on the perfection of Christ.

So I’ll keep studying. I’ll keep growing. I’ll keep holding tightly to Jesus while holding my own conclusions with the humility of someone who knows there’s still much to learn.

If I understand it correctly… that’s exactly where a disciple should be.

I remember very specifically July 2, 2014. There was also June 16, 2009, and August 2, 2000. I even remember September 16, 2001. I can tell you exactly what I did on all those seemingly random days. Most likely you remember none of them.

The reason they stick out in my head is that those are the days I stepped out on faith and did something big for Jesus. I started leading at a new location. I launched a new Church into the world. I moved my family four thousand miles to a place I was hoping God would use me.

Most days get forgotten unless something significant happens.

As followers of Jesus, we can step up and do something meaningful for him at any point in our lives. We do not have to wait.

Somewhere down the line, you might look back and think, “I remember July 29, 2026, because that is the day I trusted and pushed my faith to its limits.”

They didn’t know I was listening. I was lurking nearby and eavesdropping on these people’s conversation. They were not talking about me or anyone I know. The interaction focused on something that had gone wrong that Sunday morning.

One of them blamed the equipment for the issues. The problem would not have happened if the Church had purchased quality tools for the work.

The other person gave their theory on what happened and why.

As I leaned in to hear their discussion, I noticed that neither one of them accepted any responsibility for what happened. It was the equipment, not the person running it. It was that the person running it was not properly trained by someone else.

Neither one was ugly or mean with their words. They were shifting the blame to areas where they had no control.

I often think that the difference between a leader and a follower is the willingness to accept blame. To say, perhaps I could have done something to prevent this from happening. And I promise you that I will do whatever it takes to make sure it does not happen again. Leaders accept responsibility for past issues and the opportunity to make a better future.

The Church desperately needs more leaders.