It’s been a while since I’ve sat down to process my thoughts. Thus, no posts. My last blog was concerning the beautiful transition of our church into a new location and the adoption of 50-60 new people into our church family. This beautiful and messy thing that God is doing is a reminder of his faithfulness to us. Since our church decided to move forward, there has been a flurry of renovations on our new space, contractors coming and going, our staff operating at 150% of capacity, and teaching/preaching each Sunday in two locations. And yet a shadow of joy has settled on this whole endeavor. We are delighted by all that God is doing. Seriously.

Also stressed.

A little anxious too.

It got me wondering why knots in my stomach have become commonplace in this season of Sundays. Here are a few thoughts: 

My people-pleasing bent has shown its ugly head. I’ve been shepherding the same people for over a decade and a half. Lots of new people have come, but generally speaking, these people know me and love me and accept me. They are fully aware of my frailties and shortcomings. I never step up on stage and wonder if I will be loved and appreciated for doing my best to teach the bible. However, these last eight weeks I am now preaching to an entirely new crowd. I don’t really know them. They don’t really know me. And while most of the people I have met are kind and gracious and hungry for Jesus, I walk up on stage and think to myself, I sure hope they like me!

I don’t know of a more dangerous and idolatrous feeling for a pastor to have than this one. And yet here I am, feeling this and fighting this with all the grace I can muster.

Secondly, I’ve settled into the most primal of fears: failure. I keep thinking to myself, What if this doesn’t work? What if it implodes? What if we renovate this building and no one shows up? What if I really screw this up? I know how to preach myself out of this. Really. Jon, take every thought captive. Jon, God is faithful. Jon, Jesus is building His church. Yep . . . got it. I know. But I also know my personal history—I have great potential to screw things up. 

I think my fear of failure is a second cousin to my desire to be approved of and liked. I’m afraid of what my pastoral peers will think. I’m afraid I will look foolish. 

Lastly, I am terrified we might succeed. Wait Jon, didn’t you just admit to having a fear of failure? Yep. I’m that jacked up. I am afraid to fail and scared to succeed. Don’t try to figure it out. Where I’ve landed on this is that if I get everything my little, dark heart thinks I want in the way of the church world (big church, big crowds, etc . . .) then I have that much more to lose. All of this is rooted in a truth that has governed my life—getting what we think we want is often the worst thing for our souls. This is what God reminded Israel, “They soon forgot His works;
they did not wait for His counsel,but craved intensely in the wilderness, and tested God in the desert. So He gave them their request, but sent leanness into their soul” (Ps. 106:13-15).

It’s that last part that scares me. “So he gave them their request, but sent leanness into their soul.” That should scare all of us. We get what we think we want, but it’s at the expense of our soul.

Here’s where I’m choosing to live today—in all of this, joy is present; God is near; people are filled with faith; ideas for connecting with our community are abounding. Those at both locations have been so kind and patient and hopeful for the future. All of this gives me strength to endure. We’re on a beautiful, messy journey and only God knows the ending. Until then, we’ll draw near to his heart and humble ourselves to each other. That’s all we can do.