I recently read (and I forget where) that organizations hold two separate meetings every time they meet.

The first one is formal. Everyone sits at the table and shares their thoughts. Oddly enough, everyone might seem to agree.

Then there is a second meeting. This one may be with the three or four people who remain after everyone else has left. It might also be at the local restaurant where a few friends gather after meetings, in an elevator, or at the coffee machine the next morning.

This is where people drop their filter and share honest thoughts about what was discussed at the formal meeting. People are willing to complain, question, and affirm when there is no fear of repercussions. This is where true thoughts are shared, and an idea gains traction or loses steam.

One challenge of leadership is being successful in both types of meetings. Leaders who accomplish great things in business and in Church can generate support in both formal and informal meetings.

While watching the game, a player made a mistake. After the play, he looked at some of the other players and said, “My Bad.”

It was a simple way of expressing that he accepted responsibility for the mistake.

But it meant more than that; it also meant, “and I will not let that happen again.”

Sometimes, in life, we need the courage to stop and acknowledge our mistakes. It must always be followed by a willingness to change. We are to stop doing the wrong thing and start doing the right thing.

It is a step in the right direction to say, “my bad,” but your actions need to show that you truly thought your actions were bad.

Two polarizing approaches exist in preaching.

One is to preach sermons primarily to give information. These preachers encourage a paper Bible, note-taking, and some even provide their own notes, often with a few blanks to fill in to keep you engaged.

This style says that a sermon is only good if people leave knowing more.

The other approach to preaching is about making the listener feel something. These preachers use video, drama, object lessons, and music to create moods and emotions before, during, and after the sermon.

This style says that a sermon is only good if it makes people feel something.

I think a truly great sermon has both. You both learn and feel something while you listen. But I admit, sermons like that are rare.

Ask yourself, when you gather with other believers this weekend as a Church community, what do you hope to receive from the sermon? If you go hoping to learn and the emphasis is on making you feel something, then you will be disappointed and might think the sermon is shallow. If you go expecting to feel something and the emphasis is on learning, it might feel cold and impersonal.

Your expectations will influence your experience of what you hear.

Being a leader means you are willing to make tough choices. It means making decisions you know some people will hate to move the group forward. It requires you to stand strong when people criticize what they don’t understand. Leadership is challenging.

This is true in the business world and in the Church.

That does not mean every choice you make is hard; sometimes you can help people, solve problems, and take the easy path. Sometimes leaders receive praise, and people appreciate the work they do.

Those moments are fantastic, but sadly, they are rare.

Most of the time it is lonely work.

Often, being a leader means moving people toward where they need to go, not where they want to go. It means doing what is right even when others think it is wrong. It means making a decision today that may not be appreciated until months or even years later.

Over my ministry, I have encountered numerous former Church leaders. Almost all of them have a story about a member’s vitriol while they were trying to lead. Often it hurt them deeply, and they quit, vowing never to lead again.

It’s painful to hear, because the Church needs good leaders. But good leaders don’t always make everyone happy.

Jesus certainly didn’t. He said things people didn’t want to hear. He challenged people’s assumptions. He confronted sin. He called people to sacrifice. And eventually, some of the people who followed him turned against him.

Leadership is about faithfully doing what God has called you to do.

Sometimes the right thing is the hard thing.

The Gottman Institute specializes in marriage and teaches about “bids for connection.” These are both verbal and non-verbal attempts to get attention, affection, or a positive response.

This applies to marriage, but it also applies to all relationships. That means the people closest to you often open themselves up to you so you can connect more deeply. This can come in the form of a question like, “Guess what happened to me today?” It might be an observation like, “Look at that new thing.” It can also be a statement that opens the door for questions like, “I am feeling so distant from you lately.” Which can be greeted with, “Why is that?” Or “How can I make you feel better?”

Frequently, we offer these windows into our soul, hoping the people around us will notice and respond. We think, “If they truly care, then this is the opportunity for them to show it.” In marriage, a happy couple will notice these bids 86% of the time. I would guess the same is true in friendships and with relatives. Our most fulfilling connections are with people who use those open windows to engage in conversation.

As Christians who want to express love to those around us, sometimes the most meaningful thing we can do is ask, “Tell me more about that.”

It is a trite expression, but it is foundational.

It may not be what we wanted or hoped for.

It may not be what we planned or prepared for.

It may not even be what we expected.

Face reality. Take a brutally honest assessment.

This is the situation you currently find yourself in.

Start there. Make a new plan, choose a new direction, and move toward a better outcome.

It is what it is, but it does not have to be what it becomes.

Different kinds of smart people exist.

My dad used to divide them into two categories: book-smart and street-smart. Some people function well in an academic environment. They can learn, memorize, analyze, and understand complicated ideas. Others have practical intelligence. They know how to make things happen and navigate real life.

After years of ministry, I have noticed something similar in the Church. I would divide them into two categories: debate smart and decision smart.

The first group knows what they believe and knows the Scriptures that support their position. They can argue their point and debate matters of faith for hours.

The second group isn’t nearly as interested in winning a debate. They are more interested in helping you find Jesus.

They have situational awareness. They listen well. They have empathy. And they can take complicated Christian concepts and explain them in a way that makes sense to ordinary people.

One of these groups is wildly popular online and across social media. The other is usually sitting quietly in the corner, hardly noticed.

Both groups may genuinely want people to know the truth about Jesus. But they take very different approaches.

In my experience, faith has always spread through conversation and personal connection. Debates can be helpful. They can clarify what we believe and expose faulty thinking. But I have never met a Christian who said, “That debate changed my life.”

I hear something different all the time: “That person listened to me. They made me feel seen. They cared about me.”

And maybe this is becoming even more important in a world where Google and AI can give us an answer to almost any question in seconds.

Information is becoming easier to find. Connection is becoming harder to find.

You don’t need a Christian who can give you the right answer. You need a Christian who can sit with you, listen to you, understand where you are, and help you take your next step toward Jesus.

The good news is that you can learn both kinds of smart.

Being a smart Christian isn’t just about knowing more. It’s about using what you know to help people know Jesus.

A flibbertigibbet is a person who is flighty, chatty, easily distracted, and always jumping from one thing to another. They can be classified as silly, talkative, and unfocused.

I don’t know anyone who would proudly introduce themselves as a flibbertigibbet; I think most of us have a little flibbertigibbet in us.

Especially when it comes to our faith.

We start reading the Bible, and then our phone buzzes. We begin to pray, and suddenly we remember something we need to do. We decide we’ll serve, and then something else seems more important. We want to grow closer to God, but our attention is constantly being pulled in a hundred different directions.

Sometimes the greatest threat to our spiritual lives isn’t rebellion. It’s distraction.

We don’t necessarily walk away from God. We get busy, distracted, entertained, and preoccupied until we realize we’ve barely thought about God all week.

Maybe we don’t need to do more. Maybe we need to focus more.

Put down the phone. Turn off the noise. Stop chasing every thought. Make time for God.

Because a life constantly pulled in every direction will never go very far in any direction.

Don’t let the flibbertigibbet in you keep you from becoming the person God is calling you to be.

Often the most helpful answers are the simplest.

If you want to lose weight, then you need to diet and exercise.

If you want to get out of debt, then you need to spend less than you earn.

If you want a better marriage, you must learn to communicate well.

The same thing goes for a life of faith. If you want to grow as a believer, pray, read the Bible, obey, and connect with a group of people of faith. Do those things every single day.

Don’t overcomplicate things; you know what to do; the hard part is doing it.

Once again, I have heard the complaint that my teaching is not “deep enough.” People are considering leaving, have stopped attending small groups, and are not learning enough Bible, so they think finding a new Church community to worship with is the solution.

It is nothing new; I have heard the criticism for years from people who come to hear me preach who are already Christians.

One version of this comes from the fact that I do not preach straight through a book of the Bible. This usually comes from someone who grew up with a preacher who handled their preaching this way. Often an influential Christian preacher convinced them that this is the only Godly way to do it. I often respond jokingly, “Yes, that is exactly how Jesus, Peter, and Paul did it in the New Testament,” which is usually received with furled eyebrows and a huff.

The other version of this comes from people who claim they want me to “deep” into the text. Usually that means they want some piece of trivia from the original languages, perhaps some Jewish context known only to a select few well-read intellectuals, and possibly a quote from C.S. Lewis or some other well-known deep thinker. These people want to leave the Church every Sunday with some insight they can use in Bible studies or online to dazzle people with their knowledge of the scriptures.

The problem is that the Bible never defines spiritual depth this way. Spiritual maturity is about doing what you know. It is not simply knowing more; it is about using what you know to become like Christ. Jesus ends the Sermon on the Mount by saying a wise person is the one who “hears these words of mine and puts them into practice.” (Matthew 7:24)

Christians should learn more and more about the words of Scripture so they can transform us. The goal is not more information but transformation. Your spiritual depth is not seen in your ability to quote Bible trivia or meaningful Christian quotes; it’s seen in how you live like Jesus. If you believe anything less, you are deceiving yourself.