Two years in, and no moral collapse, financial scandal, or open revolt. Not bad. Most guys don’t make it past the first Easter without considering a career in artisanal coffee or light landscaping.
What struck me most in your reflection wasn’t the survival, but the tone. Measured. Sober. A little weary, but not cynical. Resolute. It reads like someone who’s begun to understand that planting/growing a church (and a ministry) isn’t about momentum so much as metabolism. Day to day. Often slow. Often invisible. And still, somehow, alive.
You're doing faithful work. It shows. The people you're pastoring may not say it often, but they're watching. And what they see, I suspect, is a man still learning how to die to himself without needing a round of applause for it. That’ll stick with them longer than most sermons.
And if now and then it feels like you're just improvising under someone else's name while trying to keep the whole thing from collapsing into the salad bar... well, you're in good company. Remember, if worst comes to worst, you can always charge it to the Underhills.
"planting/growing a church (and a ministry) isn’t about momentum so much as metabolism"
Thank you for your encouragement here, Matthew. That you read words is one thing; that you listened and heard tone ("a little weary, but not cyncial") is what means the most. Of course, the obligatory Fletch line at the end was better than a cup of hot fat. Grateful.
Two years in, and no moral collapse, financial scandal, or open revolt. Not bad. Most guys don’t make it past the first Easter without considering a career in artisanal coffee or light landscaping.
What struck me most in your reflection wasn’t the survival, but the tone. Measured. Sober. A little weary, but not cynical. Resolute. It reads like someone who’s begun to understand that planting/growing a church (and a ministry) isn’t about momentum so much as metabolism. Day to day. Often slow. Often invisible. And still, somehow, alive.
You're doing faithful work. It shows. The people you're pastoring may not say it often, but they're watching. And what they see, I suspect, is a man still learning how to die to himself without needing a round of applause for it. That’ll stick with them longer than most sermons.
And if now and then it feels like you're just improvising under someone else's name while trying to keep the whole thing from collapsing into the salad bar... well, you're in good company. Remember, if worst comes to worst, you can always charge it to the Underhills.
"planting/growing a church (and a ministry) isn’t about momentum so much as metabolism"
Thank you for your encouragement here, Matthew. That you read words is one thing; that you listened and heard tone ("a little weary, but not cyncial") is what means the most. Of course, the obligatory Fletch line at the end was better than a cup of hot fat. Grateful.