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.

My wife and I took a week to go home, visit my mom, and help her around the house. While we were there, two of my boys joined us. On Sunday morning, we all took my mom to her Church, the same one I grew up in.

I started attending there when I was five years old, and my parents decided it was time to change places of worship for several reasons. I was a part of this Church through Jr. High and High School, plus through my college years when I was not preaching. Since then, I have tried to stay in contact as much as possible by helping lead a week of camp and joining them for special events. But it has been over six years since I went with my mom.

What I love about returning is seeing the old familiar faces. The staff of my youth has changed and retired, but I saw so many people whom I have known for years: Walt and Cheryl, Dennis and Lisa, and even my cousin Janis with her family.

The Church is such a unique place. It is where people join and remain for fifty years or more. Many of the people will never attend anywhere else on a Sunday morning. It is where you can see families develop and grow, where young people turn old and raise their grandchildren to worship the same Jesus.

I believe you experience Church at its best when you find a community you like and stay with it for a lifetime.

My Sunday visit included conversations with people who have known me since I was a boy. People who were curious about my ministry. I hugged people I hadn’t talked to in over a decade. In some ways, it felt like a homecoming to the people who helped raise me and develop my faith.

Going to the old building feels nostalgic, but seeing the people reminded me that Church is much more than a building. It is a family you love and grow old with, even when you are miles apart.

At the youth group gathering our Church leads every week, I noticed one of the boys get up at the start of the lesson and disappear into the bathroom. He didn’t return after 10 minutes, so I went to check on him.

I opened the door to find him wetting his hair and combing it with his hands over and over. He was trying to get that perfect look to impress others. I saw him and said simply, “Let’s go; you are missing the lesson.”

He grumbled and walked out of the bathroom and back into the auditorium.

Since then, I have watched, and he has not returned to youth group for the past three weeks.

I have tried to tell this story based on facts, and without interjecting emotions. This is how everything played out according to my perspective.

I wonder how he tells the story. What was his perspective on the events of that evening?

Does he tell people, “They are so controlling, they won’t let you go to the bathroom without watching you.” Maybe he tells people how boring youth group is and how the lessons have little value, even though he did not hear most of it. Perhaps he attacked me and said, “The pastor is a real jerk.”

Honestly, any of those scenarios and descriptions apply, because they are all partially true from his perspective.

And that is my point.

Whenever someone tells you about their experience at a church, any church, remember that their perspective shapes their story.

So be careful when you hear someone’s negative story about a church, a pastor, or another Christian. There is usually another side to the story.

Before you make up your mind, remember: perspective matters.

I don’t do this often, but I am sharing something I did not write. It was on Facebook, and I have seen multiple people share it without quoting the original source.

EVERYONE TALKS ABOUT CHURCH HURT,
BUT NO ONE TALKS ABOUT PASTOR HURT.

*Pastor hurt will rarely, if ever, get discussed—the wounds a pastor receives while loving, serving, and carrying the burdens of people.

• Pastor hurt is pouring years into someone, only to watch them leave without ever having a conversation with you.
• Pastor hurt is finding out that someone you loved like family has been discussing you with everybody except you.
• Pastor hurt is being expected to understand everyone’s bad day while nobody considers that a pastor can have one too.
• Pastor hurt is counseling someone through their darkest season, answering their late-night calls, praying them through a crisis, and later being treated as though you never did anything for them.
• Pastor hurt is watching people interpret correction as rejection because they wanted affirmation more than discipleship.
• Pastor hurt is having your motives questioned by people who have never carried the weight you carry privately and publicly.
• Pastor hurt is being criticized for decisions by people who don’t know the information behind those decisions.
• Pastor hurt is hearing, “God told me to leave,” when nobody ever came to you and said, “Pastor, something is bothering me. Can we talk?”
• Pastor hurt is watching someone become offended by one moment after years of experiencing your love.
• Pastor hurt is being there for births, deaths, hospital rooms, marriages, funerals, financial crises, family problems, and spiritual battles—then discovering that one misunderstanding was enough for someone to write you off as a demon.
• Pastor hurt is seeing someone you trained, encouraged, promoted, and gave opportunities to suddenly treat you like the enemy.
• Pastor hurt is investing in someone’s calling, only for them to dishonor the very house that helped develop it.
• Pastor hurt is having people demand access to you when they’re hurting, but disappear when the pastor needs them.
• Pastor hurt is carrying confidential information that prevents you from publicly defending yourself. A pastor may know every detail of exactly what happened, but integrity requires them to remain silent.
• Pastor hurt is smiling from the pulpit while privately processing something that would have kept many people home.
• Pastor hurt is preaching faith to everybody else while having to fight for your own faith after the service is over.
• Pastor hurt is preparing sermons while exhausted, praying while wounded, leading while grieving, and showing up because people are depending on you—knowing that if the shoes were on the other feet, they wouldn’t show up for you the way you have always shown up for them.
• Pastor hurt is realizing that some people loved your gift more than they ever loved you.
• Pastor hurt is discovering that some people celebrate you as long as your pastoring never challenges them.
• Pastor hurt is forgiving people who never apologized because bitterness would cost your calling more than their offense ever could.
• Pastor hurt is learning that shepherding sheep sometimes means being bitten by the very sheep you’re trying to protect.

Pastors hurt too.
Pastors bleed too.
Pastors get tired too.
Pastors need prayer too.

Love your Pastor.
Pray for your Pastor.
Talk to your Pastor.

Behind that pulpit is a person who is carrying more than you will ever know or experience.