By ddickerson / Apr 22
Alright, single dudes. This one’s for you. Jared Wilson and Ronni Kurtz offer advice on how to win a godly girl.
Join us at For the Church Orlando for a timely conversation on the state of preaching in the SBC.
Learn MoreGospel-Centered Resources from Midwestern Seminary
Alright, single dudes. This one’s for you. Jared Wilson and Ronni Kurtz offer advice on how to win a godly girl.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
From the rise to progressive Christianity that erodes doctrinal fidelity to the “apostasy vibes” embraced by “ex-vangelicals” like they’re the latest fashion, ministry in our current season faces some serious challenges in the face of popular deconstruction. Jared Wilson and Ronni Kurtz talk about how pastors and church members can navigate these volatile ideological — and relational — waters.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.”
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:
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.
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.
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.
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.
It’s another Mailbag! It doesn’t matter what color it is. It only matters how stuffed with quality questions it is. On this episode, Jared Wilson and Ronni Kurtz discuss helping people scared of baptism, ministry focus for lay elders, “hearing from God,” humor in the Bible, and more.
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.
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.
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.
“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.
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.
“If Christ is not raised, we of all people should be pitied the most.” In this annual holiday episode, Jared Wilson and Ronni Kurtz talk about the truth and transforming power of the resurrection of Jesus.