Iwant to tell you about one of the worst mistakes I’ve ever made.

When I answered a call to serve in vocational ministry, God blessed me with incredible mentors who, verbally and by example, helped equip me to serve the kingdom. Those men drilled into me an uncomprimising duty to preach the inerrant Word of God. They taught me to sacrificially shepherd the people the Lord placed in my care. I watched and learned as they cast vision and executed strategy. 

So when the Lord opened a door for me to serve as the lead pastor of a church after working as an associate pastor for several years, I felt like I was ready to minister from a pretty strong foundation. But there was a problem. Woven throughout my strong ministry foundation were hairline fractures caused by the stress of a few lies I had started to believe.

The first lie was that serving on a church staff would give me more time to spend with the Lord. The second lie took a similar shape: When God called me to serve as a lead pastor, I figured I wouldn’t have to fight as hard for my time with the Lord like I did as an associate pastor. After all, my responsibility to study and preach the Word of God each week necessitated biblical proximity, right? The third lie might have been the most damaging of all because it sounded so noble: Giving up my time with the Lord was acceptable as long as I was doing something for the cause of ministry.

It was a devastating mistake for me to believe these lies. Before long, I found myself effectively ministering to others while simultaneously depleting myself. Spiritually, I was running on empty.

A

couple of years ago, my 15-year-old son started playing rugby. He has really grown and become a good player. But recently, he called me after his team lost a close match. He was upset and began pointing out all the things everyone did wrong during the match. 

I let him rant for a few moments, then told him to take a deep breath and reminded him that there are always lessons to be learned—even in the losses.

“What lessons are there to be learned,” he asked? 

I told him that leaders don’t react. They respond.

Reaction is usually a temporary emotion to a temporary situation. Responding is an action that can lead to substantial change. When it comes to life, ministry, business, and even sports, those who react will do so almost every time circumstances change. Leaders, on the other hand, respond with forward action. 

As a state network that cooperates with our national Southern Baptist Convention, there are plenty of opportunities to react. All you have to do is spend a few moments on Twitter to see an unending display of emotional responses. As you scroll through all the gossip, slander, and half-truths, some may wonder why we cooperate.

A

s I write this article, I am flying back from a mission trip in the Masai Mara, Kenya. Thirty-two of us spent a week evangelizing, equipping church leaders, hosting medical clinics, constructing a new church building, and planting new churches. 

It was a powerful week of advancing God’s mission. We witnessed more than 400 people make professions of faith and laid the groundwork for two church plants in villages with no gospel presence. The most overwhelming part of the trip was the power of God that we saw on display in this largely unreached area. 

This region is hugely influenced by pagan practices and witchcraft that have been present here for thousands of years. Our team encountered very real demonic activity and undeniable spiritual encounters that I have never seen in more than 25 years of ministry.

One of the pastors we work with here is named Jonathan Narasha. He was saved a little more than 25 years ago when a missionary came through preaching. Jonathan had never heard the gospel before that day, but it transformed his life. He immediately began to preach the gospel and start churches in a region where there were almost no Christians. Since Jonathan’s conversion, there are now thousands of believers and he has personally planted more than 35 churches. Many of those who have accepted Christ have themselves planted dozens more churches.

My primary vision for the first 20 years of pastoring was to build a Great Commission church. That vision fueled two decades of uninterrupted church growth at three churches that prioritized baptisms, buildings, and budgets. 

Fifteen years ago, I came to realize I was not growing internally at the same rate as my ministry was growing externally. I continued to preach sermons, lead staff, and build buildings while simultaneously burning out and burning bridges. Although I did not have any moral meltdowns in that dark season, a doctor and therapist helped me understand I was pastoring in a fog of depression and needed help. 

That began a grace-filled journey back to personal and pastoral health—which led to my most fulfilling years of pastoring. In the five years that followed my diagnosis, our church finished a historic relocation to a 50-acre campus while simultaneously launching a regional ministry center. 

Is it realistic to expect an unhealthy pastor to lead a healthy church? 

The apostle Paul says this in 1 Timothy 4:16: “Pay close attention to your life and your teaching; persevere in these things, for in doing this you will save both yourself and your hearers.”