Teaching Your Church to Lament

By / Apr 30

Many years ago, author and professor Carl Trueman wrote—by his own admission—one of his most read and well-known works, an article titled What Can Miserable Christians Sing? In it, Trueman argues for the necessity of including songs of lament (especially from the Psalter) in a church’s corporate worship. He writes, in part: “A diet of unremittingly jolly choruses and hymns inevitably creates an unrealistic horizon of expectation which sees the normative Christian life as one long triumphalist street party—a theologically incorrect and a pastorally disastrous scenario in a world of broken individuals.”[1]

What Trueman says rings true. Life in a fallen world is full of hardship and struggle, and the normative Christian life is decidedly not one long triumphalist street party. The Bible is not shy about this. Life is often painful. Within this reality, what responsibility does the pastor bear in the liturgy and teaching of the church?

The fact is, pastor, your people will suffer. This is not breaking news. When and how they suffer, only the Lord in His sovereignty knows. While we will inevitably minister to people in the midst of suffering—and after suffering has already come—we must also prepare them for suffering beforehand.

In other words, we ought not wait for suffering to happen before teaching about it. We must equip our people ahead of time so that, when the inevitable struggle comes, they are not without language or categories for faith.

Mark Vroegop reflects on this well. Looking back on a particular season of grief for him and his wife, he writes, “I can now see that the missing element in our grief was a familiarity with lament—heartfelt and honest talking to God through the struggles of life.”[2]

We must be equipped—and equip our people—to know that lament is both appropriate and helpful when suffering comes.

Here are three ways pastors can, and should, incorporate lament into the life of the church so that God’s people have words when sorrow and suffering befall them.

1. Sing Songs of Lament

A brief listen to popular Christian radio or a glance at the CCLI Top 100 reveals that most songs sung on a given Lord’s Day in America are upbeat. Fair enough—the gospel brings joy and announces good news. And yet, as Trueman observes, the human condition remains profoundly broken.

It is not wrong to sing joyful songs. But if joy is all we sing, we risk offering a truncated view of life in a fallen world. Jesus’ own hymnbook was the Psalter, and its most frequent genre is lament.

Trueman again notes,

The psalms, the Bible’s own hymnbook, have almost entirely dropped from view in the contemporary Western evangelical scene. I am not certain about why this should be, but I have an instinctive feel that it has more than a little to do with the fact that a high proportion of the psalter is taken up with lamentation, with feeling sad, unhappy, tormented, and broken. In modern Western culture, these are simply not emotions which have much credibility: sure, people still feel these things, but to admit that they are a normal part of one’s everyday life is tantamount to admitting that one has failed in today’s health, wealth, and happiness society.[3]

Including songs of lament in the church’s liturgy does something profound: it gives people words to sing when life is hard. Those words sink deep, equipping believers to sing through pain rather than fall silent in it.

I pastor a local church, and we intentionally include songs of lament, particularly when we preach selected Psalms each summer. When my dear son Ambrose was stillborn this past July, I drew comfort from songs like Lord, From Sorrows Deep I Call, Psalm 13, and He Will Hold Me Fast. Songs of triumph did not match my sorrow—but songs of lament did. They gave me language to sing through tears and ministered to my soul.

Include songs of lament in your liturgy, and your people will have words to draw from even when it is hard to sing.

2. Teach and Preach Lament

A similar effect occurs when lament is taught and preached. As noted above, we preach the Psalms every summer and intentionally include Psalms of lament. There are also books like Job, Habakkuk, and Lamentations in which saints are honest about how they feel.

Teaching these texts shows your people that lament is not abnormal. It gives them words to pray when they find themselves in grief, confusion, or loss. It teaches them that honesty before God is not irreverence, and that the God who hears can handle our cries. When they lack words, they can open the Psalter and pray what God has already given them.

3. Point to Saints Who Have Suffered Honestly

Finally, pastors should point to saints—past and present—who have suffered with honesty and faith. This can be done through sermon illustrations, pastoral writing, social media posts, and other teaching. Show how mighty saints through the ages have suffered, written down their honest feelings, and handed their works down to us.

Consider Augustine writing in Confessions grieving the loss of his mother, John Calvin writing to a friend when his wife died, or Martin Luther lamenting the death of his beloved daughter. These saints show us that it is possible to be faithful and sorrowful, trusting and confused, joyful and mourning—all at once.

Your people will suffer. This is an unavoidable reality of life in a fallen world between the Advents. Let us be honest about that with them. Let us equip them beforehand with language for prayer and song, so that even in sorrow they can turn toward God with hope—looking ahead to the day when every sad thing comes untrue.

[1] Carl Trueman, “What Can Miserable Christians Sing?” IX Marks, https://www.9marks.org/article/what-can-miserable-christians-sing.

[2] Mark Vroegop, “Strong Churches Speak the Language of Lament,” The Gospel Coalition, https://www.thegospelcoalition.org/article/strong-churches-lanuage-lament/.

[3] Carl Trueman, “What Can Miserable Christians Sing?” IX Marks, https://www.9marks.org/article/what-can-miserable-christians-sing.



When God Takes What We Love Most

By / Apr 28

Jonah 4 provides a striking picture. God appoints a plant to give Jonah shade, and Jonah greatly enjoys its comfort. But the next day, God appoints a worm to destroy the plant. Deprived of its shade, Jonah becomes furious and cries out, “It is better for me to die than to live” (Jon. 4:8).

Jonah’s reaction may seem overreactive or even embarrassing. But before we turn him into a caricature, we should pause and ask an uncomfortable question: If we were in Jonah’s place, how would we respond?

When God removes what we cherish, how do we think about Him? What do we learn about who He is and who we are? While these questions could be answered in many ways, Scripture presses two lessons on us in moments like this.

1. God Is Greater Than the Gifts He Gives

The first lesson Scripture presses upon us is this: God Himself is infinitely greater than the gifts He graciously places in our lives. However precious those gifts may be, they are never meant to rival the Giver.

Job: Worship Without Conditions

Few figures embody this truth more clearly than Job. Scripture introduces him as “blameless and upright, one who feared God and turned away from evil” (Job 1:1). When Job loses all his wealth, his servants, and even his seven sons and three daughters, his response is astonishing: “The LORD gave, and the LORD has taken away; blessed be the name of the LORD” (Job 1:21).

Job does not deny his grief; he tears his robe and shaves his head. Yet he recognizes a deeper reality: everything he possessed was a gift, not a right. God, the Giver, remained worthy of worship even when the gifts were removed.

Abraham: Loving God More Than the Promise

Abraham learned the same lesson through an even more painful test. In Genesis 22, God commands him to offer Isaac, his beloved son, the child of promise, as a sacrifice (Gen. 22:1).

Humanly speaking, Abraham could have protested. He could have questioned God’s goodness or consistency. Instead, he rose early and obeyed. When God finally stopped him, He declared, “…for now I know that you fear God, seeing you have not withheld your son, your only son, from me” (Gen. 22:12).

The test was never about Isaac alone. It was about whether Abraham loved the gift more than the Giver. Mature faith learns that God is never merely a means to something else—He is the ultimate treasure, the ultimate gift.

A Personal Lesson in Loss

This truth became painfully real to me in August 2019. One late evening, I received one of the most devastating phone calls of my life from my dad: my oldest sister had been hospitalized with dengue fever, and doctors gave her only a two percent chance of survival. She was not only my sister but had also supported my education for seven years.

That night, my wife and I pleaded with God through tears, fully believing He could intervene. But God chose not to heal her permanently. Within the week, He took her home.

In that loss, God taught me a difficult but freeing truth: God owns what He gives. My sister belonged to Him before she was ever my sister. Accepting this did not erase the pain, but it brought clarity and freedom. There is a strange peace that comes when we stop pretending that God’s gifts are ours to control.

2. Our Reason for Righteousness Matters More Than the Reason for Our Suffering[1]

The second lesson may be even more searching: the Bible is often more concerned with why we worship God than with why we suffer.

The Foundational Question of Job

Many people approach the book of Job seeking answers to suffering. But Job never receives a full explanation for his pain. Instead, the book answers a different question: Why is Job righteous? Satan accuses Job of serving God only because God has blessed him. Remove the blessings, Satan argues, and Job’s faith will collapse. But Job proves him wrong again and again. Even when his health is destroyed and his wife urges him to curse God, Job responds: “Shall we receive good from God, and shall we not receive evil?” (Job 2:10).

Job’s righteousness is not transactional. He does not serve God for benefits. He serves God because God is God. He worships God because God is God.

We must be honest as we answer questions like: Why do we worship? Why do we fear God? Why do we give? Why do we obey? Why do we call ourselves followers of Christ? Is it because God is worthy, or because we expect something in return?

The prosperity gospel offers a dangerously shallow answer, promising health, wealth, and comfort as guarantees of faith. Scripture offers something far deeper and costlier: the call to take up the cross and follow Christ, even when obedience leads through suffering. God is everything—He is the greatest gift ever.

When God Is Enough

When God takes away what we love, He is not being cruel. He is revealing what or whom we truly treasure. The greatest gift God has ever given is not health, wealth, or security. The greatest gift is God Himself. He gave Himself to us in the incarnation, and He gave Himself fully on the cross. He is to be loved above all. He alone is worthy of worship.

If we have God, we ultimately have everything—even in loss. If we have everything, but not God, we have nothing.

Yes, we will grieve. Yes, we will be discouraged. But even in sorrow, faith teaches us to turn toward Him rather than away from Him. When we look to the cross and see the depth of God’s love, self-pity gives way to trust. God is greater than every gift He gives and He is enough—even when those gifts are taken away.

[1] I owe this reflection and understanding to John H. Walton, Job: The NIV Application First edition (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2012).



The Ongoing Weight of Standing Graveside

By / Apr 27

In almost seven years as a lead pastor, I have stood beside graves almost thirty-five times.

Some were expected. A saint in her nineties whose Bible had nearly fallen apart before her body did. An older husband who slowly forgot names but never forgot the Lord’s Prayer. Or a sick child only twenty weeks in the womb. Those funerals carry tears, but also a quiet gratitude. You feel like you are escorting a pilgrim to the finish.

Others were not like that.

I have preached for a young man whose friends cannot delete his number from their phones. I have preached for parents who had to walk behind a child-sized casket. I have stood in a hospital room where there was no casket at all—only a silence heavier than wood could hold.

When my wife miscarried several times, we buried the tiny bodies next to our house and planted tulips above them. The spring flowers make us smile, but there is a peculiar grief in the makeshift burial of someone you never heard cry. A grief made sharper by the strange fact that your memories are not events, but expectations—no birthdays, no food fights, no prom dates. An unwrapped future.

I write this especially to younger pastors and seminarians, because no class will truly prepare you for what funerals will ask of you.

The Preparation and Weight of Every Funeral

In seminary, I had a pastoral ministry professor who taught the basics—funerals, weddings, counseling, administration, baptism. I remember thinking he had more to say than I could possibly absorb. He was excellent, and I still keep the notes from that class. Yet more than a decade later, I realized something else: Though he put me on a good trajectory, funerals would ask more of my heart and focus than any classroom could cover.

I think there’s a danger hidden within all the great advice you can receive from seasoned pastors. For pastors, in all of this, there is danger in repetition.

You will eventually know the routine. How long to preach, when to stand, where to sit, and how to dismiss the crowd. You will coordinate meals with the kitchen team, contact a deacon for flowers, arrange slides and music, and you will know the cemetery undertaker by name.

And if you are not careful, this repetition can produce callousness.

A friend of mine owns a funeral home in town. One day, I jokingly asked if he had been busy lately. He said he had directed eighteen funerals that month—but did not consider it busy. That stunned me. That is roughly two hundred funerals a year.

For you, it might be the fifth funeral this year. For the family, it’s chaos.

It is the worst day of their lives. The room you have stood in many times is completely new territory for them. They will probably not hear any of what is said. They will have watched the slideshow a hundred times while preparing it. They are exhausted, disoriented, and fragile.

You are not managing an event but shepherding wounded people. You may be the primary speaker, but you are mostly a presence.

Sometimes the most pastoral thing you will do is sit quietly. Sometimes it’s offering a short prayer. Sometimes it’s helping them choose hymns because they cannot think clearly. Sometimes it’s gently telling them it is okay not to have an open mic or an open casket.

Your calm and confidence become borrowed stability.

Even when the deceased is elderly, the loss is not small. A ninety-year-old mother can leave behind a sixty-five-year-old child who now feels like an orphan. Even when a baby dies in the womb, another baby may never come to the younger parents.

Every funeral is catastrophic for someone.

Why the Work Matters

I once heard a seasoned minister say he preferred funerals to weddings because people are more ready to hear the gospel when facing a casket than when looking at a bride. I understand what he meant and do not entirely disagree.

But I still hate funerals.

After nearly thirty-five funerals before personally turning forty years old, I would gladly never do another. I do not like leaving a hospital knowing that was my final conversation. I do not like late-night messages from a young couple saying they lost the baby. I do not like sitting in a cold, stale office holding my wife’s shaking hand while we wait for another ultrasound to hear “no heartbeat.”

I hate it—because death is not right.

Genesis 3 explains every cemetery. Hebrews 9 reminds us death is tied to judgment. John 11 shows us that Jesus wept at Lazarus’s tomb.

Yet this is exactly where pastors are called.

Part of our calling is to stand where people most need a shepherd. We are called to confidently stand at hospital bedsides, in living rooms, and beside open graves just as confidently as we stand behind the pulpit. We will say words no one else in the room knows how to say.

Basil Manly, Jr. wrote in a hymn, “we meet to part, but part to meet.” Funerals place a pastor in that doorway of grief—but always with the hope of reunion.

Preach to Everyone

A funeral is not merely therapeutic—it is truthful. The most loving thing you can do is speak honestly about death and clearly about Christ.

First Corinthians 15 must become familiar territory. Paul says the body is sown perishable and raised imperishable, sown in weakness and raised in power. Christianity does not merely promise that souls survive—it promises resurrection.

The empty tomb of Jesus is not only His victory, but the believer’s future. We hold this in faith now, trusting it will one day become sight.

The woman confined to a wheelchair for years—will she run? The middle-aged mother whose cancer reduced her to frailty—will she be restored with strength and color? The children my wife and I buried—will they know us?

Scripture gives certainty without exhaustive detail. Enough to anchor hope, not enough to eliminate faith.

Your task is not to solve every mystery. Your task is to point people to Christ.

The Honor Hidden Inside the Grief

You will never enjoy coordinating funerals. You will schedule volunteers, organize meals, contact the funeral home, arrange music, and confirm seating. Much of it will feel administrative.

But do not miss what you are actually doing. You are honoring the sending off of an image bearer.

For most of church history, Christians buried their own near the church’s building. Believers worshiped within sight of tombstones because they believed in bodily resurrection. Even mowing grass between graves becomes a quiet confession that death is temporary.

This is one of the most honorable acts of pastoral care you will ever perform.

You accompany someone to the final step of earthly discipleship and publicly entrust them to the promises of Christ. You help a family grieve with hope. You stand where theology becomes tangible—you get to be the messenger of that message.

The Grief Comes with a Destination

Paul says Christians grieve differently. Our tears have a destination. Because Christ has been raised, death is not a wall but a used doorway. One day God will wipe away these tears—not metaphorically, but personally.

And even with all this, I am still waiting for another funeral.

My dad has stage four cancer.

My parents are members of my church. It amazes me that I get to be my dad’s final pastor, since he was the first to tell me about Christ’s gospel. Though I dread the impending day of his funeral, I am grateful to speak when it comes.

I will walk my mom down the aisle and seat my wife and my sister’s family. Then I will go to the pulpit and preach—an honor I never expected a decade ago, but a delight I know my dad has as the day approaches. Because we all know that moment, and all of grief’s moments, are temporary.

Because Jesus Christ died, was buried, and rose again, I can stand beside any grave and say something true. I’ll never forget my seminary professor’s words: “When you’re at that pulpit, at that funeral, you point at that casket and say to everyone ‘this is not the end for this person.’”

Remember that every funeral is a loss for someone and a sacred moment entrusted to you. You are caring for souls at their most fragile moment and commending a believer to the promises of God.

Few acts in ministry are heavier. Few feel more holy.

And one day, faith will become sight.

Until then, we testify—one funeral at a time.



Ordering the Church for Ordinary Growth

By / Apr 23

Most pastors agree on what spiritual health looks like. Christians should grow in holiness, love God’s Word, participate in the life of the church, give generously, serve faithfully, share the gospel, and invest in one another. The difficulty is not defining the goal, but ordering the life of the church so that members actually pursue and achieve it.

Too often, maturing as a Christian is framed as a process to be completed: steps to finish, stages to pass through, or courses to graduate from. You might even see this baked into a church’s tagline—something like, “Belong, Worship, Grow, Go.” In reality, Christian growth doesn’t work that way. Growing as a disciple of Jesus is less like completing a program and more like adopting a healthy lifestyle—a set of ordinary practices embraced together and sustained over time. No one ever “finishes” healthy eating or “graduates” from exercise. Physical health is cultivated through ordinary habits practiced consistently: eating right, exercising regularly, and resting appropriately. Progress is usually slow and sustained by making healthy choices over and over again.

Christian growth follows a similar pattern. Believers don’t complete worship and move on to discipleship, or finish discipleship before beginning service. From the beginning of the Christian life, believers are called to practice all the ordinary means of grace—imperfectly but persistently—within the life of the local church. Elders best serve the flock when they frame growing in Christ as a sustainable rhythm of faithfulness, not a sequence of milestones.

Elders as Trainers, Not Performers

A good personal trainer does not exercise for someone else. If the trainer did all the work, it would defeat the purpose. Instead, the trainer defines what health looks like, identifies the most beneficial exercises, models them as an example to be emulated, and creates an environment where consistency is possible. The trainer walks you over to a machine, shows you how to use it correctly, and spots you as you exercise.

Similarly, pastors do not produce maturity in others. Growth is the work of the Spirit. But elders are responsible to clearly define spiritual health and organize church life around the practices God uses to produce it. Elders must carefully consider the “diet” and “training” the church regularly receives—not in terms of novelty, but in terms of sufficiency, clarity, and achievability.

Paul tells the church in Ephesus that they have been given leaders to equip the saints for the work of ministry, for building up the body of Christ (Eph. 4:12). Pastors exist to show the church exactly how that work is to be done. Congregations need pastors who will not only preach clear application in their sermons but design activities and ministries around the ordinary practices that facilitate growth, inviting church members to begin doing these disciplines alongside them.

The Ordinary Diet of the Church

Healthy bodies require regular nourishment. Christians likewise require steady spiritual nourishment, and the primary place this occurs is corporate worship.

The gathered church—where God’s Word is preached, prayers are offered, ordinances observed, and members mutually exhort one another—is not an optional supplement to the Christian life. It is the central meal. Everything else in the church’s discipleship strategy should support, reinforce, and flow from this weekly gathering. Elders serve the church well when corporate worship is presented not as one activity among many, but as the non-negotiable center of Christian health.

Training That Reinforces Health

Nutrition alone is not enough for physical health; bodies are strengthened through use. In the same way, the Christian life involves practices that exercise faith, love, endurance, and obedience, including:

  • One-on-one discipleship
  • Sacrificial giving
  • Evangelism
  • Sunday school
  • Men’s and women’s ministry

None of these practices are meant to be pursued in isolation or mastered and left behind. Together, they form a pattern of ordinary obedience that strengthens believers’ spiritual muscles over time. Elders function like trainers: not inventing new exercises, but directing members toward the practices that actually promote growth and helping them engage those practices rightly. This often requires pastors to lead by example, practicing these disciplines in their own lives.

Creating an Environment for Consistency

One of the most important contributions a trainer makes is not motivation but structure—scheduled sessions, appropriate expectations, and a sustainable pace.

Similarly, elders serve the church not merely by exhorting faithfulness, but by creating clear and achievable opportunities for members to practice the Christian life together. When expectations are unclear, many believers quietly disengage—not out of defiance, but out of uncertainty. Responsible pastors create structures that facilitate obvious means of obedience.

Elders help remove uncertainty by answering practical questions:

  • Where will I be taught the Word?
  • How can I serve?
  • How do I learn to disciple others?
  • What does generosity look like here?
  • How can I get started in evangelism?

When these avenues are clear, growth becomes ordinary rather than exceptional.

Practical steps include meeting with godly men in your church to read the Bible together, modeling evangelism through organized outreach, and teaching members how to pray through public settings like a prayer service. Pastors provide entry points and handholding when needed so members can begin practicing challenging disciplines confidently.

Consistency Over Intensity

Good trainers continually remind people that health comes from consistency, not intensity. Overexertion often leads to burnout, which leads to neglect, which leads to weakness. Sustainable progress comes from showing up again and again. Elders must reinforce the same truth in the church. Faithfulness is not measured by spiritual overachievement or by prioritizing special events, but by steady participation in the ordinary life of the body.

Serving the Church by Ordering Its Life

Elders do not best serve the church by merely telling people to grow. Ministry does not happen merely by instructing members to minister. Pastors serve the church by ordering its life according to healthy practices, week after week, year after year, and practically showing members how to do the work.

When corporate worship is central, ordinary disciplines are clearly taught, expectations are simple and obvious, and opportunities are readily accessible, believers are freed to pursue maturity without confusion or despair. Christian discipleship is not a program to complete, but a life to be lived. Elders, like specialized trainers, help the church adopt patterns of faithfulness that can be sustained for the long haul, trusting that God, in His time, will give the growth.

 



Faith in the God Who Holds You

By / Apr 21

My own moral failings, intrusive thoughts, and moments of doubt have sometimes left me feeling worthless and weak. In those moments, I can’t help but feel that God is ashamed of me or distant. And in my weakness, I ask myself, “How can I hold on to Him more earnestly?”

The Bible teaches clearly that we are to seek God through the Spirit (1 Cor. 12:3; Matt. 6:33), live in obedience (John 14:15), and run to Jesus as we fix our focus on Him (Heb. 12:1–2). The Spirit also helps and strengthens us during this process (Rom. 8:26). In this sense, our faith must be living and active (Heb. 4:12), yet faith is not about how well we are following or pursuing God. At its core, faith isn’t even about “holding on” to God.

Learning from Asaph in Psalm 73

One of my most treasured passages is Psalm 73. In the first part of the psalm, Asaph looks at the prosperity of the wicked and became jealous and angry. He isn’t just angry at the wicked—he’s angry at God Himself: “When my soul was embittered, when I was pricked in heart, I was brutish and ignorant; I was like a beast toward you” (vv. 21–22).

For a moment, Asaph thought his pursuit of holiness was in vain (v. 13). He was embittered and brutish toward God. In his moral failing and distorted view of God, he certainly felt distant from Him. Yet in his repentance, he gives one of the richest confessions of God’s faithfulness to His people: “Nevertheless, I am continually with you; you hold my right hand. You guide me with your counsel, and afterward you will receive me to glory” (vv. 23–24).

Notice verse 23: in the midst of failure, Asaph reminds himself of his hope—not in his works, feelings, or ability to hold on, but in the fact that God is holding on to him. Asaph’s faith was trusting that God held his hand, guided him with His counsel, and that He will one day bring him into His glory.

Faith Is Being Held, Not Just Holding

In John 10:28–29, Jesus tells us that no one can snatch us out of His hand. God Himself will keep us from stumbling (Jude 24). What an incredible reminder: Faith is not about how strong we can hold on to God—it’s believing that God is holding on to us, even when we are weakest.

We must guard against putting our faith in our own works or feelings. Our works will fail us and our feelings will betray us. But when we place our faith in God and His Word, trusting that He saves those who call on Him (Rom. 10:13) and works in us as we pursue Him (Phil. 2:12–13), we can echo Asaph’s song of hope: “Whom have I in heaven but you? And there is nothing on earth that I desire besides you. My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever” (Ps. 73:25–26).

Faith is not clinging harder; faith is trusting the hand that will never let go.



How Church Structure Fuels Disciple-Making

By / Apr 16

Polity can play a significant role in disciple making in the local church. Church polity—or simply the way a church is structured—can either hinder or motivate disciple making. Some traditions and denominations have a set structure they follow not only locally but also regionally, statewide, or nationally. In some faith traditions, a general council or presbytery prescribes a local structure for leadership, authority, and decision-making in the church.

However, in my tradition—the Southern Baptist tradition—there is no single prescribed model for church structure. Some churches are led by staff, deacons, committees, leadership teams, councils, influential families, single elders, or a plurality of elders.

I want to highlight several reasons why utilizing a plurality of elders in congregational leadership creates a healthy environment for disciple-making to flourish. While historical and biblical support for plural eldership in SBC churches is available elsewhere, my focus here is practical: how disciple-making and plural eldership naturally support one another.

1. Remind Pastors of Their First Calling

Many pastors remember two callings: their call to come to Christ in salvation and their calling into ministry. For some, these callings happened in a moment. For others, their calling comes over a season. A call to ministry often connects closely with a desire to preach—to share God’s Word in a way they have seen and experienced themselves. They want to share the good news of Jesus with a church, youth group, circle of kids, or anyone who will listen! This desire is good and necessary for ministers in the local church.

But I have often seen pastors let their call to preach supersede their first calling—to intentionally make disciples (Matt. 28:18–20; 2 Tim. 2:2). Preaching serves disciple making, but it alone cannot disciple others deeply. In Matthew 4, Jesus tells His disciples that if they follow Him, they will “fish for men.” Preaching is part of that process, but Jesus’ preparation in Matthew 28 shows that intentional, personal investment is essential.

When a church utilizes a plurality of elders, the pastors understand that more elders will not emerge through preaching alone. They must discern men who might aspire to be an elder, invest in developing them, and deploy them into ministry and leadership in the church. In doing so, pastors are reminded of their calling to fish for men, build relationships, and intentionally invest in others, helping form them into the image of Christ.

2. Develop Pastors and Ministers

Many churches today struggle to find qualified candidates to fill ministry positions. The days of posting a position online and receiving hundreds of resumes are largely gone. Many churches have been looking for pastoral roles to lead their church for quite some time. This will likely continue to be a problem. One solution many churches have utilized is the development of their own staff and pastors from within their own church. Sometimes this is an intentional process where the current pastor or ministry leader has created a development and succession plan. In other situations, the lack of a leader brings forth the emergence of a new leader within the church.

A plurality of elders supports this by creating a continual process of leadership development. Men exposed to the office of elder have a role to aspire to and a framework for growth. As current elders discern who aspires to lead, they can invest time and energy to develop their character and competencies. Over time, some of these men may feel called to vocational ministry.

In this way, a church with a plurality of elders creates a pipeline of leaders—both for its own ministries and potentially for other churches in need of qualified pastors.

3. Set Disciple-Making Expectations

The pulpit safeguards theological fidelity. The preaching ministry of a church has been likened to a rudder that directs the church. As the pulpit goes, so goes the church. In the same way, as the elders go, so goes the church. A plurality of elders demonstrates what it looks like to walk with Jesus and help others follow Him.

If each elder assumes the responsibility of discerning and developing new elders, the church will have a disciple-making culture. While not every believer is charged with developing new elders, every believer is commissioned to make disciples (Matt. 28:18–20). As elders in your church disciple and develop men to serve as elders, the church becomes a place where intentional disciple-making becomes the norm, not the exception.

These three elements—reminding pastors of their first calling, developing leaders, and setting disciple-making expectations—can happen in churches without a plurality of elders. But a healthy plural-elder structure supports intentional disciple-making rather than stifling it. It encourages pastors to invest in disciples, provides a pipeline for leadership development, and lays a foundation for a church culture where disciple-making thrives.



When Service Becomes Worship

By / Apr 14

Serving Behind the Scenes

Much of the Lord’s work happens quietly. Long before a sermon is preached or a song is sung, someone has already prepared a place for God’s people to gather. Spaces are opened, checked, repaired, and made ready—often with little recognition, yet with a faithfulness that reflects the heart of Christ Himself.

Over the last decade, the phrase facility stewardship has become a helpful way to describe this calling. The term encourages churches to view the care of their buildings not as maintenance alone, but as an expression of discipleship and responsibility before God. This framing reminds church leaders that tending to the physical spaces of ministry is, in its own way, spiritual work.

Paul writes, “Whatever you do, work heartily, as for the Lord and not for men…” (Col. 3:23–24). These words remind us that God assigns dignity to every act done unto Him, especially the ones that receive the least attention. When service is hidden, it is tempting to believe it matters less, but Scripture consistently teaches the opposite: unseen work is honorable in the Lord’s sight.

Facility stewardship is one of those quiet callings. Early mornings, last-minute fixes, interruptions, and diligence in small tasks all help create an environment where the Word can be heard and God’s people can be strengthened. Even when others overlook this service, the Lord does not. He sees, He remembers, and He delights in the faithfulness of His servants.

Your labor may not always be mentioned, but it is never wasted. God uses it to uphold the ministry of His church in ways that are often unnoticed yet deeply significant in His Kingdom.

A Biblical Vision of Stewardship

Scripture speaks often about stewardship—not merely in terms of resources, but of the heart. Jesus teaches, “One who is faithful in a very little is also faithful in much…” (Luke 16:10). This simple statement reframes the way we think about ordinary work. Faithfulness is not measured by visibility or scale, but by obedience. God cares about the posture of the servant long before He cares about the size of the task.

In the life of the church, work that feels small often becomes the work God uses to accomplish much: a tightened bolt, a cleared hallway, a prepared classroom, a repaired leak. These may not draw attention, yet they protect the ministry unfolding within those walls. They allow others to gather without distraction, hear the Word without hindrance, and worship in an environment marked by care.

The call to stewardship is not primarily about efficiency or orderliness—it’s about offering our labor to the Lord with a willing heart. The God who entrusted His people to shepherds and teachers has also entrusted His spaces to those who maintain them. Both are acts of service meant to glorify Him.

When facility stewards carry out their responsibilities with quiet diligence, they reflect the character of a faithful God—One who pays attention to details, cares for His people, and works in ways often unseen. In that sense, facility work is not peripheral to the church’s mission; it is part of the faithful stewardship God calls His people to embody.

Honoring God Through Excellence

Paul writes, “And whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through Him” (Col. 3:17).

This verse carries particular weight for those whose work is quiet, repetitive, or physically demanding. Excellence is not a pursuit of perfection—Scripture never calls us to flawless performance or endless striving. Instead, excellence in the biblical sense is about orientation: doing what we do “in the name of the Lord Jesus” with a heart that desires to honor Him. It is offering our labor not to impress others, but to express gratitude to the One who redeemed us.

There is something profoundly Christlike about serving in ways few will ever notice. Jesus Himself spent much of His earthly life doing ordinary work with extraordinary faithfulness. He hammered nails, carried beams, shaped wood, and worked with His hands long before He preached a sermon. His everyday labor was no less holy than His public ministry because He did all of it in obedience to His Father.

So it is with facility stewards. Excellence becomes a form of worship when done with gratitude. Tasks like aligning chairs, maintaining equipment, preparing rooms, or tending to maintenance needs may seem small—but each act is a quiet way of saying, “Lord, this is for You.”

When that mindset governs our work, the mundane becomes meaningful, the small becomes sacred, and the unseen becomes a testimony of devotion. In a world that often measures value by visibility, this kind of excellence stands out—not because it demands attention, but because it reflects the character of God: ordered, intentional, faithful, and full of care.

Your excellence in the hidden corners of the church is not wasted. It is worship.

Going Deeper in Your Service

For many who serve in facility roles, devotional rhythms can be hard to maintain. Early mornings, unexpected needs, and long stretches of quiet work often leave little room for reflection. Yet week after week, the Lord continues to shape His people through small reminders of His presence: a Scripture that lingers, a word of encouragement from a colleague, or a moment of calm in a demanding day.

Some facility stewards find it helpful to follow a devotional pattern designed specifically for the kind of work they do—something simple, Scripture-centered, and written with their daily responsibilities in mind. One resource for this is the Facility Management Devotional, a year-long collection of short weekly reflections. Its themes—quiet faithfulness, perseverance, gratitude, excellence, and joy in unseen service—echo those shared here.

Encouragement for the Week Ahead

Wherever the Lord has placed you, and whatever responsibilities await in the coming days, remember: your service is never small in His sight. The tasks you complete, the problems you solve, the care you give to the church’s physical spaces—all of it becomes an offering when done unto Christ.

Excellence is not merely about the quality of the work, but the posture of the heart. It is the quiet decision, made again and again, to serve with gratitude rather than resignation, diligence rather than indifference, and hope rather than weariness. When that becomes difficult, as it often does, the Lord is faithful to strengthen His people.

May you enter this week with renewed confidence that God delights in the faithfulness of His servants. May your work be shaped by the joy of knowing He is near. And may every unseen act of care become another way of saying, with your hands as much as your voice, “Lord, this is for You.”

 



Four Barriers for New Leaders

By / Apr 9

Stepping into leadership, in any context, for the first time can feel both thrilling and overwhelming, whether in the church, workplace, or any other context. Leadership is not just a role—it is a calling, and like all callings in the life of a believer, it carries both privilege and responsibility. God equips those He calls, but sometimes He does this through challenges that shape character and refine faith (Jas. 1:2–4). New leaders often bring passion, vision, and fresh energy to the teams they lead, yet they also face unique internal obstacles that can hinder their growth and effectiveness, particularly in the short term. By identifying these barriers, leaders can rely on God’s wisdom, discernment, and grace to lead faithfully, not merely successfully.

Here are four common barriers new leaders must overcome to lead effectively and faithfully:

1. Lack of Personal Discipline

New leaders are often energized by big ideas, but they underestimate the small habits that sustain quality leadership. Without personal discipline—managing time wisely, sticking to commitments, and cultivating spiritual habits—a leader’s influence erodes quickly. While discipline isn’t glamorous, it is foundational in the life of any Christian leader. The daily disciplines of prayer, planning, preparation, and follow-through build the credibility and character required for long-term leadership success.

2. Perpetual People-Pleasing

The desire to be liked is natural—especially for new leaders trying to earn trust and build relational capital with those they lead. But when pleasing people becomes more important than pleasing God, compromise sets in. People-pleasing leads to watered-down convictions, delayed decisions, and burnout. New leaders must learn to speak truth in love, risk disapproval, and prioritize obedience to Christ over applause from the crowd. Leadership isn’t about being popular—it’s about being faithful.

3. Chronic Conflict-Avoidance

Conflict is an inevitable feature of leadership—there is simply no way to avoid it. Often, however, new leaders assume that avoiding conflict at all costs will preserve peace. The opposite is usually true. Ignoring necessary conflict breeds resentment, gossip, and division among the people you lead. Healthy leadership means addressing issues early and directly, with humility and grace. Leadership requires the courage to have hard conversations, pursue reconciliation, and lead others through discomfort for the sake of unity and growth.

4. Debilitating Indecisiveness

Uncertainty is part of leadership, but indecisiveness stalls progress. New leaders often feel paralyzed by the fear of making the wrong choice, but indecision is a decision in itself—and usually the worst one. Leaders grow by making the best decisions they can with the information they have, then adjusting as needed, trusting God with the outcomes. Leadership requires prayerful courage, not perfect clarity.

Every leader faces internal barriers, but new leaders often feel them most acutely. By naming these four challenges—lack of discipline, people-pleasing, conflict-avoidance, and indecision—leaders can confront them with intentionality and grow into the faithful, courageous leaders God is calling them to be, relying on His strength and guidance along the way.



Melodies in the Maladies: Singing More and Louder

By / Apr 7

I stood alone in my apartment, still wrestling with the fact that the world had shut down. No training or seminary class had prepared me for 2020 and the questions rising in my soul. What do you do when you don’t know what to do? How do you tell your family that better days are ahead when the data seems to indicate otherwise? At the corner of confusion and despair, however, songs from the African American church began to seep out of the furrows of my soul. They were songs like “I Need Thee,” “Father, I Stretch My Hands to Thee,” and “I Love the Lord, He Heard My Cry.” My mouth caught up with my soul, and I made a “joyful noise to the Lord” (Ps. 100:1). Those melodies from heaven seemed to evict despair and confusion from my apartment. It was a reminder that I need to sing more. I submit that we need to sing more—and sing louder.

Amplify Your Quiet Time

Years ago, I was introduced to the concept of a “quiet time.” The phrase never fully resonated with me. I come from a Christian tradition that considers volume a pleasing and acceptable offering to the Lord. The phrase “quiet time” made me wonder: Is reverence chained to silence? Has someone implicitly decided that noise is unholy?

What about the documented moments of Jesus with the Father? Jesus withdrew and prayed, which we can assume was not quiet (Luke 5:16; Mark 1:35). Consider the garden of Gethsemane and how the disciples could hear Jesus’ sorrowful prayers to the Father (Matt. 26:36–46). The writer of Hebrews indicates Jesus was noisy and reverent (Heb. 5:7). Jesus had some loud times with the Father, so we can, too.

After you feasted on the Word, what if you allowed unrefined, sincere praise to rise from your lips? When the pen retreats from the page of your journal, what if you made a joyful noise to the Lord? I encourage you to sing not only in public worship but also in your private time with the Lord. Sing the songs often reserved for the shower. Let your songs resound in your hallways. Keep a melody in your heart and don’t be afraid to let others hear it.

Melodies in the Maladies

In this life, woes and worries plague us until the Savior returns. Too often, we resort to our own will, ways, and wisdom to fix our afflictions. But what if we followed the path of the psalmists and sang in our affliction?

David sang in Psalm 3 when thousands of people were pursuing his life. He sang when he felt forgotten by God (Ps. 13). After grievous sin and deep repentance, he gave us Psalm 51—a song born from brokenness. Scripture shows us again and again that God’s people sing and pray in dire situations.

What about you? Does work place a heavy yoke on your shoulders? Has the brokenness of those you serve burdened your soul? What about your children who constantly remind you of their sinful nature? What do you do when death and disease continue to greet you at the house of the Lord?

I encourage you to sing. Singing is not a magical incantation that removes the woes and worries, but it does lift the soul. In my apartment, the hymns didn’t remove the pandemic, but they quieted the pandemonium within.

Keep Singing

“I have a bone to pick with you,” she said while towering over me. I looked up at her in anticipation of being reprimanded. She continued by saying, “I can’t hear you sing anymore.”

On a typical Sunday morning, she sat two rows in front of us and once told me she enjoyed hearing me sing. That day, she urged me to sing louder. After our conversation, my mind drifted to Ephesians 5:19 and the call to address one another in psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs. We are meant to hear one another sing.

What if, on Sunday morning, we put away the worshipful whispers and hushed hymns? Beloved, shout to the Lord so the words of your unrefined praise might encourage the souls of those around you. Turn the volume up so those watching might ask about what keeps you singing. Let the joyful noise echo through the sanctuary, because God is worthy of it all. Brothers and sisters, we need to sing more—and sing louder.



Sufficient is Today: Trusting the Lord with Tomorrow’s Troubles

By / Apr 2

Plastered on my letter board in the main focal point of our home is Matthew 6:34. It reads, “Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble.” I am three days past my due date with my third baby, which means the blissful ignorance about the pain of childbirth has long since passed. I shoved the white plastic letters into the black felt three weeks ago when I first felt the familiar pangs of anxiety about the birth of my baby boy. This is also my very first home birth, which means the anxieties I’m feeling are different from those I’ve experienced previously.

As the final days of pregnancy have dragged on, I’ve looked at Matthew 6:34 many times. What was first intended to comfort me has instead made me ponder how it can be comforting that tomorrow has anxieties of its own.

For the last three weeks, I’ve found myself praying, “Lord, I know tomorrow will be anxious for itself. I know tomorrow contains its own anxieties. How is that supposed to comfort me? I’m becoming anxious about anxiousness!” I’m certain this is not how Christ intended His comforting words about God’s tender care to be interpreted. That’s likely why Scripture is meant to be read in context, not in small snippets. What I intended to encourage me about fighting anxiety actually took on the opposite meaning when isolated from the rest of Jesus’ words.

If we go back just a few verses, Jesus tells His disciples all the things they do not need to fear regarding their livelihood—food, drink, clothing, shelter. He points out the fruitlessness of anxiety and how it produces nothing but internal turmoil. We cannot add anything to our lives through anxiousness. His point wasn’t that we should be anxious today and anxious tomorrow for tomorrow. His point is that we shouldn’t be anxious at all. In fact, He says in verse 25, “Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life…”

But Jesus doesn’t tell us not to worry merely because it’s fruitless—He tells us not to worry because we have a loving Father who cares for our needs, a Father who is trustworthy.

My hyper-focus on the pain to come or the fears surrounding the birthing process is rooted in a lack of faith. Just like Jesus’ listeners worried about what they would eat or drink, I worry about my ability to endure what tomorrow holds. From a human perspective, their fears were legitimate: What would they eat? Where would they sleep? You may resonate with the fears I hold. How will labor go? Will my baby be okay? You likely have your own questions about tomorrow’s anxieties as well.

Despite these concerns, Jesus calls us to observe the simplest of creatures: the lilies of the field and the birds of the air. These creatures are not made in God’s image. God cares for them—feeding, clothing, and loving them—yet He tells us we are far more valuable than any plant or animal. The question we are really asking is not what we will eat or drink, but something far greater: Will God take care of me? According to Jesus, the answer is a resounding yes.

Christ knows our tendency to worry about things we cannot control. Eating and drinking are essential, and Jesus isn’t saying they are insignificant. He’s pointing us to the fact that God will provide for our every need. A few verses later, He emphasizes that we are not fleeting like the birds and lilies, but eternal beings. Whether we eat or drink—or even pass from this life—the Lord never leaves or forsakes us (Heb. 13:5–6). Even when physical needs are unmet, our infinite value to God means all our spiritual needs have been provided for through Christ. We have no reason to worry. God is in control and loves us abundantly, far beyond our physical needs.

So why are today’s troubles sufficient? Because the Lord holds our entire lives in His hands. He does not leave us to toil fruitlessly in fear of what’s to come. He has promised eternity to believers through the death of His Son. Tomorrow’s concerns are for the Lord, not for us.

As I read Matthew 6:34 on my wall today—and hope to during the birth of my baby—I will look to my Father, who has graciously provided all things (Rom. 8:31–33). Today is sufficient for its own trouble. Tomorrow will have enough trouble for itself. But I have no reason to fear, because the Lord has me secure.