One of the hardest parts of pastoral ministry is watching people walk away from your Church.

The reasons vary widely. Some families relocate for work or to be closer to loved ones. Others face declining health that makes attendance difficult. Some experience a crisis that shakes their faith to its foundation. And then some move on because of differences in leadership style, community culture, or unmet expectations.

When people leave for personal reasons, it feels like a rejection of me or my ministry. It is a bitter pill I struggle to swallow. Doubt creeps in. I replay conversations and sermons, wondering what I could have done differently. The wound goes deep, and the scar lingers.

But here’s what I’ve learned through the ache: every time someone leaves because of a misalignment in vision or approach, God brings others who are perfectly aligned with where He’s leading us. People arrive who share our passion, embrace our mission, and strengthen our community in ways I couldn’t have orchestrated.

Letting people leave is painful, but it’s also an act of trust in God’s sovereignty and in His unique plan for each person’s spiritual journey. They need a community that fits where God is taking them, and we need people who are called to labor alongside us in this specific harvest field.

The hurt is real, and I don’t dismiss it. But I’m learning to hold the pain with open hands, to bless those who go, and to keep my eyes fixed on the One who called me to this work. He is faithful to build His Church, even when it doesn’t look the way I expected.

So I release them with a prayer, trust God with the outcome, and continue serving Him with the people He’s entrusted to my care today.

One of my goals for 2026 in the Church I lead is to build systems that help accomplish God’s desire for our people. That means having a clear plan to develop people into mature believers.

For example, our welcome system (often called assimilation) asks: What happens when a first-time guest walks through our doors? There should be a clear path from a warm welcome to gathering information to meaningful connections to a Starting Point class to service, and finally to becoming a contributing member.

We also need systems for volunteers, worship planning, small groups, stewardship, and leadership. For our Church to move forward, we must be intentional about helping people move from unbelief to becoming committed followers of Jesus.

Just as the human body depends on systems, skeletal, muscular, nervous, and cardiovascular, the Church needs systems that lead people toward full maturity in Christ.

Every Church is perfectly designed to produce what it currently produces. If we want a better outcome, we need better systems. And if we want fully devoted followers of Jesus, we must build systems that support that goal.

The journey of faith is never a straight path. It is always a winding road.

You would think that stepping out to follow Jesus would be like entering a highway. Once you are on it, you can travel directly to wherever you want to go.

That is rarely the case. God often leads us through dark valleys, down uncharted paths, and even into harm’s way. The journey of faith winds through terrain that builds character, strengthens our faith in him, and moves us toward greater compassion.

I firmly believe that stepping out to follow Jesus is the greatest thing anyone can do. But know that it will be an adventure and not a cake walk.

Imagine someone buying a gym membership. Once a week, they get up, drive to the gym, walk around looking at the other people using the equipment while they sip coffee. They might even hear a personal trainer explain how to use the equipment while helping someone else create an exercise plan. Then they say hello to a few people, head back to their car, and drive home.

What do you think of that person? They are part of a gym, but they are really not using it the way it was designed. It is not merely a social gathering spot; it is a place where you work out and develop your body.

Now, imagine someone joins a Church. Once a week, they get up, drive to the Church, walk around, and watch other people serve the Lord with their gifts. They might hear a sermon and wonder if someone else is listening, because they really need to change their lives. They sip coffee, say hello to a few people, and go home.

What do you think of that person? They are part of a Church, but they are not really using it the way God designed it. It is not merely for social gatherings, but a place where we can use our gifts, grow our faith, and learn ways to become more like Christ. It is where you can develop your heart and soul.

One question for Christians is, “Do I like visiting the Church each week or am I connecting to it in a way that makes me more like Jesus?”

I heard a pastor with a background as a hospital chaplain say that one of the most significant lessons he had to learn was that he did not have to offer his advice to families in crisis. Our opinions and instructions provide very little for people who are walking through unspeakable trauma.

He stated the best thing he had to offer people was his presence. There is enormous power in sitting in silence with people whose hearts are broken. Giving them the time and permission to vent, shout, or let out their hurt is cathartic. A shoulder to cry on, or a simple hug, or a quietly uttered prayer can bring oxygen into the room so that people can breathe again.

The beautiful part is that everyone has what it takes to provide this for others. You don’t need to be a Bible College graduate or have a master’s degree in counseling. You do not need deep Biblical knowledge or the ability to defend your faith. All you need to do is show up.

Today and this week, there is someone you know who could use your presence in their life. Not your words of wisdom, grand advice, or theoretical solutions. They need you, and that is all. And your willingness to go to them will speak volumes.

I was listening to a person describe what they had walked through in life. It ranged from a painful childhood, difficult teenage years, and numerous mistakes as a young adult. The pain bled through their voice from the years of struggles.

Then they said a line I wrote down: “This could have been a tragic tale.”

This person had overcome all their difficulties. They had not allowed themselves to be pulled into the vortex of pain, where they tried to escape through drugs and alcohol. Their story was not a tragic one; it was one of an overcomer.

The Church is filled with people who have pasts with trauma and shame, and through the power of God, their story does not have a tragic ending. Instead, they are a witness to the power of God when he steps into a life with forgiveness, power, and purpose.

I firmly believe that God can take any story and make it an “untragic” tale – even yours!

Our office administrator sends me the numbers from the previous week at worship on Tuesday afternoon. She adds up everything on the attendance count sheet and then compiles our giving numbers from the various places we use to collect money. Once everything is added together, she gives me two definitive numbers from the weekend.

Last week, she asked me what I did with those numbers. I explained it to her, and thought it might be helpful for you to know as well.

I keep a spreadsheet with the date, attendance, offering numbers, and a space for notes. Some weeks have few notes to add, but others include statements like, “Baptism with lots of family here, Temp was 8 degrees to start the day,” and “I was out of town on vacation.”

At the end of each year, I review those notes and look for trends. I compare them with previous years and look for patterns that might help in my ministry. Every Church has unique seasonal swings and disruptions. For example, while preaching in Alaska, our summers were packed with people from May to August, and Christmas was empty as people flew to see family in warmer climates. Where I serve now, we have sports in June, but I know the first week of July will be a ghost town. Then, because we have numerous teachers, we expect our numbers to return by the second week of August.

I use these numbers for programming, for the number of chairs I need in the auditorium, for evaluating sermon series topics, for starting small groups and holiday plans, and for my vacations. Every number tells a little story about the people I lead, their habits, and when they spend time away from worship. I then use those stories to lead in the most effective way I am able.

When I arrived at the Church I now lead, there were 100 black chairs in the classrooms. They had all been purchased from Sam’s Club and were highly functional. A few years later, we needed 100 more. We found similar-looking chairs online for a lower price and assumed no one would notice the difference.

I noticed immediately.

Though the chairs looked nearly identical, they were slightly different in height and width. When stacked together, the mismatch pinched the material on the seats, often tearing holes in them. What seemed like a slight difference created real damage.

So I separated the chairs and stored them in different parts of the building. But whenever someone needed extra seating, they would grab from the rooms and use both types. Afterward, they instinctively stacked them all together. The result was more damage.

Recently, while reorganizing the stacks, I discovered a third chair. Just one. No one knew where it came from or how it got there. It looked similar enough to blend in, but it didn’t belong with either group. When stacked, it damaged the others, so I set it aside. It remains in the building, present, but out of place.

At first glance, all three chairs look the same. But their differences matter.

That realization made me think about the Christian life. To the untrained eye, everyone who claims the name of Jesus appears alike. But closer inspection reveals differences in belief, character, humility, and obedience. Those differences don’t just affect us individually; they affect the people around us as well.

Following Jesus isn’t just about looking the part. The Church isn’t meant to be a pile of mismatched chairs damaging one another whenever they are put together. It’s about being formed into the likeness of Jesus. When each person’s life is shaped by Christ, we fit together in a way that builds up rather than tears down.

I was discussing the use of AI in ministry with another pastor. He stated several things he was trying to use it for, and I expressed how it is helping me in my writing. He immediately joked, “Oh, now I know how you are cranking out so many blog posts.”

We laughed, but the thought remained with me. Honestly, it got me wondering about so many posts I read online. How many are written by people, and how many are generated by AI? It is hard to tell, and I am sure the answer is disappointing.

I am using AI in a few ways to help me write. First, I use it for basic grammar and editing. AI has become my proofreader. Microsoft Word will actually read my writing out loud to me, and that genuinely makes editing much easier.

Second, I use AI to help me rewrite clunky sentences. I write something, read it, edit it, and then reread it. And still, it doesn’t sound correct. Plugging that sentence into a couple of AI platforms often helps me produce a better-sounding statement.

Finally, I occasionally use AI to help me find a post’s ending. When I have written everything in my head, and I am not sure how to tie it off or bring the article to an end. I put the whole post in and asked it to finish it for me. It usually gives me a long, unusable sentence, but the concept of how to end it is helpful and helps me write those final words.

I am not using AI to write my content because I want my voice to be heard. God has allowed me to live through numerous experiences, learn from great teachers, and be inspired by ideas. Those become the basis of my writing.

One goal in an AI world is to find and use your authentic voice. God is not interested in a lot of generic information generated by a computer. He is looking for his people to use their lives, gifts, and talents to further his work. There is no replacement for your contribution and the unique voice you bring to the world.

One day last week, I went to the office exhausted. It has been a long couple of weeks for me as I am working on several projects for the new year. The long hours of reading and thinking had left me feeling brain-dead.

When I have days like this, do you want to know what I do?

I do the exact same thing I do every day. I start with prayer, then Bible reading, computer work, and then I start working on my sermon for Sunday. Even when I don’t feel like it, I follow the same habits and rituals that make up my life.

I never wait until I feel like connecting with God through Bible reading and prayer. I never pause my routine until the mood strikes me. I don’t wait to write creatively until I feel inspired. If that were the case, I might only work a few hours a day or possibly a week. Nope, I get up and follow the same routine every day.

In those repeated habits, I find the connection, information, and creativity that I need. Doing the same things every day leads to the inspiration I need.

Remember to build a life on actions, not merely feelings. In doing that, you will find greater faith and production, even on days when you would rather be in bed.