Seven Years. Seven Lessons.
Today I begin my seventh year as pastor of Anniston First United Methodist Church.
Seven years in one congregation is a significant chapter in an itinerant church. It’s long enough for first impressions to give way to genuine relationships. Long enough for strengths and weaknesses—for gifts and growing edges—to become visible. Long enough to love one another through disappointments and celebrations alike. Long enough to discover that faithful ministry is measured far more in years than in moments.
These haven’t been my first seven years of ministry. I began serving the local church more than twenty years ago. But seven years in one place gives you a different kind of perspective. You begin to see what lasts. You discover which convictions deepen with time instead of fading.
I certainly haven’t figured ministry out. If anything, the longer I serve, the more aware I become of how much I still have to learn.
But as I begin year seven at Anniston First, here are seven convictions that have become clearer than they once were.
1. The goal isn’t to build a bigger church. It’s to make better disciples.
I’ve become more convinced than ever that the church doesn’t need bigger personalities. It needs deeper disciples.
Personalities may attract attention for a season. Disciples make disciples for generations.
Real discipleship is slower than most of us would like. It happens one conversation at a time. One Bible study. One act of service. One prayer. One difficult season where someone discovers that Christ really is faithful.
Faithfulness compounds. Rarely overnight. Almost always over time.
2. The Bible is even deeper than I imagined—and even more central to my ministry.
The longer I study Scripture, the less interested I become in mastering it and the more interested I become in letting it master me.
I’ve stopped trying to “cover” the Bible. I want it to cover me.
One Gospel could occupy a lifetime. One parable can reshape a heart. One verse can continue revealing new beauty after decades of reading.
Scripture hasn’t become smaller with familiarity. It has become larger. Richer. More compelling. More necessary.
The older I get, the more convinced I become that the greatest gift I can give the church is not my opinions but a deeper love for God’s Word and the tools to study it well.
3. I’m less interested in being impressive and more interested in being impactful.
Early in ministry, I probably spent more energy wondering, Did they like the sermon? Did I say it well?
Those aren’t bad questions. They’re just not the best ones.
Today I find myself asking a different question: Did this help someone become more like Jesus?
I’d rather someone love Jesus because of my ministry than simply like me.
If they happen to do both, I’ll gladly take it.
The applause fades. Transformation remains.
4. Leadership requires both courage and tenderness.
Every situation doesn’t call for the same kind of leadership.
Sometimes love comforts.
Sometimes love confronts.
Sometimes love waits patiently.
Sometimes love makes a difficult decision.
Sometimes leadership means saying, “Not yet.”
Sometimes it means saying, “It’s time.”
The challenge isn’t choosing courage over compassion or compassion over courage.
It’s discerning what love most requires in this moment.
5. You cannot lead everyone.
This may be one of the hardest convictions I’ve embraced.
Not everyone will want to go where you believe God is leading.
That doesn’t make them bad people. It doesn’t necessarily make you a bad leader. God has given every one of us the gift—and the responsibility—of free will.
Leadership is not forcing people to come. It is inviting them to come.
Some will say yes. Some won’t.
When people choose a different path, there is genuine sadness. You miss them. You wish they had stayed for what comes next. You wish they were there for what God is doing.
But love also means honoring their freedom to choose.
A leader cannot spend so much time looking behind that they stop leading the people who are still walking forward.
6. The church is healthiest when it looks beyond itself.
This is not an easy season to lead a church.
Congregations are trying to learn ministry for a new era while faithfully stewarding the remnants of a previous one. Buildings require maintenance. Budgets are stretched. Longtime leaders are aging out of leadership while Generation X is smaller than the generations on either side of it. Millennials and Gen Z bring remarkable gifts, but they need invitation, mentoring, and trust as they step into leadership.
These are real challenges. They deserve our attention. But they must never become our mission.
If all we do is look inward, we slowly begin to shrink.
Our vision shrinks.
Our hearts shrink.
Eventually, our ministry shrinks.
Healthy churches refuse to become consumed with self-preservation. They keep asking bigger questions.
Who isn’t here yet?
Who needs hope?
How can we serve our neighbors?
How can we make disciples who will make disciples?
The mission has always been larger than the church itself.
7. Joy is not the reward at the end of ministry. It has to become part of the way you minister.
For a long time, I thought joy lived on the other side of finishing the work.
The problem is... the work is never finished.
There is always another sermon to write.
Another meeting.
Another hospital visit.
Another crisis.
Another family carrying more than they can bear.
Another email.
Another phone call.
Another opportunity to wonder if what you did was enough.
Ministry can be soul-draining if we believe joy is the prize we earn when everything is finally done.
Because everything is never done.
I’ve had to learn to notice the holy interruptions.
The child who still calls me “Pasta.”
The spontaneous laughter that breaks the tension in a difficult meeting.
The quiet conversation over coffee and the Bible when someone says, “I think I understand that Scripture.”
Remembering a saint whose chair is now empty but whose faith still shapes the church.
A sunrise on the way to the office.
Bread and cup.
Grace upon grace.
Joy isn’t found because ministry becomes easy.
Joy is found because Christ is present.
I don’t know what year seven will hold.
But I know some things more clearly than I did six years ago.
I know more clearly who I am.
I know more clearly whose I am.
And I know more clearly my assignment.
By God’s grace, I’ll keep showing up. I’ll keep preaching Christ, teaching Scripture, making disciples, loving people, and trusting God with the results.
That’s enough.
It’s always been enough.