It’s been two years since I’ve written anything on this blog, and it’s not because I’ve given up on technology and have decided to devote my words only to paper.

I’m sitting here trying to figure out how to explain my absence, and all I can say is that I didn’t have the words—or rather, I didn’t have the energy to turn my inner turmoil into thoughts for you to read. A quarter of the way through 2024, I found myself in the position of being one of two full-time staff members at a local church. This wasn’t the plan. This wasn’t what I asked for, but alas, it’s where I was. Much of life outside of those circumstances came to a screeching halt because my bandwidth was at capacity.

There were many months where I truly didn’t know if I would have a job by the end of the year. Yet somehow, I didn’t feel hopeless—just very, very tired and sad, with a dash of hope buried underneath all the rubble. My heart, mind, and efforts were all wound up in working alongside others to keep this mission going. All of us stretching our ears to hear what the Lord would have us do in unexpected circumstances with unknown outcomes.

Friends from my hometown would ask me if I was ready to throw in the towel and move back home yet. Everything in me shouted, “No! Not yet!”. I felt it in my bones that the Lord had placed me here, and in trusting His decision, I also trusted Him to give me what I would need to endure, heal, and make wise decisions. If the Lord had told me that all of my expectations of what life would be like in this new city would crumble overnight, I don’t know that I would have said yes to moving states away from my loved ones. So, I can confidently say that I’m glad the Lord only asks for one “yes” at a time.

Many tears have been shed, and a myriad of emotions felt—from anger to frustration, grief, joy, and hopeful expectation of a future for our church that is redeemed by God’s grace and faithfulness to us as His people. These past two years have been incredibly difficult, but if I can be honest, I’ve experienced harder things. Which feels crazy to say out loud, because this experience was anything but casual or easy or fun.

Allow me to give some context?

I have been in full-time ministry for nearly seven years and part-time in some capacity for six-plus years. My mom was also in full-time and part-time ministry for nearly a decade of my childhood. I have had the pleasure and displeasure of seeing many aspects within the life of a church. One thing I am certain of: we are sustained and redeemed by the grace and mercy of God alone. Every leader, including myself, will fail.

My hope and prayer is that my mistakes will be seen quickly, before they catastrophically cause harm to those around me. If anything, I hope the awareness of my high capacity for failure would draw me ever nearer to the Father and deeper into community with people who can hold me accountable. An isolated leader is sure to give in to their own desires.

It will always be painful and grievous seeing Christian leaders fall. It is a stark reminder that we are still in a fallen world and we’re not fully sanctified yet. As I write this, my mind is whirling with memories of many people I’ve worked with over the last decade–some who left vocational church work by choice on good terms, others on bad, and some because their choices led to their forced departure. No matter the reason, it always leaves an impact.

In my first church job, I worked with three different youth pastors, three different children’s ministers, and two different guest services admins in a span of three years. The turnover was constant and the reasons all very different from one another. My heart grieved seeing the amount of trust lost within the congregation, the walls being built back up as new staff filled vacant positions. The ripple effects were undeniable.

Yet I am thankful for what I got to experience and the gaps I got to help fill in my first years of ministry. It has instilled in me a deep desire to be a faithful leader who aspires to have longevity within the local body. I want to be a leader who the Lord holds steady when a church seems to be crumbling and a leader who the Lord keeps humble when a church is flourishing. In each season, I want the focus to be on the Lord and what He is capable of doing in us and around us.

While I don’t want to take away an emphasis from the responsibility of leaders within the Church, I do believe and trust that any harm leaders cause is not irreparable. Though I think the Lord’s design is for us to reconcile with one another–that’s a topic for another time. The belief I’m getting at here is that what we “destroy”, the Lord can always make new. Always. We can be a hopeless people, looking at our circumstances through the lens of worldly destruction, when we desperately need to open ourselves to the spiritual reality that there is much happening around us that we cannot see. The Lord is still weaving together a tapestry of redemption and beauty, even when our hand has left the plow.

In my first years in ministry, I was incredibly depressed, anxious, and ready to give up and run. I was so tired of being hurt and disappointed, and loving the work itself wasn’t always cutting it when I felt like my soul was drowning. Yet, every time I tried to leave, the Lord kept me there and showed me His faithfulness and ability to redeem, restore, and still change people’s lives in the middle of chaos and brokenness. The Lord showed me who He is in a way that I can’t forget. I can’t unknow the ways the Lord protects and grows the Church despite the mistakes of leaders. Personally, I can hardly fathom the ways He has so tenderly healed the wounds in me that were created within the church. It has given me a hope that I pray I never lose. It has been like a sweet balm to the bitterness that was eating my idealistic heart alive. I hope to consider the scars etched in my skin as reminders of the Lord’s redemptive power, rather than rooting myself in fear of what’s to come.

So, when I say that these last two years have been difficult but not the most difficult experience I have ever walked through, it’s because He’s already shown me how He can take disasters and transform them into beauty. That foundation of trust was slowly built, making it more natural to lean on the Lord and believe that He can do the impossible. I don’t have to wonder if the Lord is good, or if He’s present, or if He can make things right. I already know He can.

“And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose” (Romans 8:28). The reality of His movement in our lives often doesn’t look like we expect it to. Sometimes, God making the church more holy and right with Him is actually incredibly painful. But oh, the joy that comes when the light breaks! The joy that comes even in the midst of mourning! What a sweet gift from the Lord– a taste of what’s to come when the Lord returns for His people!