The Past Seven Years

At the beginning of July, I was released from my ministry role at a church that I had served faithfully for seven years. Since then, I’ve been bombarded with questions from many and utter silence from others. While this is undoubtedly a difficult time, it is one that I am most thankful for and has positioned me to listen more closely to God.

Christian bloodhounds have consistently searched for the story behind the story, for me to speak harshly of the church that released me, or straight out implied that I did something wrong. All of these attempts are futile because strife cannot come from love.

I love the church that fired me.

I love the seven years I was blessed to be a part of their story. I love that when I arrived seven years ago, I had the challenge of rebuilding a youth ministry. I loved launching a young adult ministry for the church. I loved transitioning after four years in student ministry (12 years total) to take on a brand-new role called “campus experience.” I loved rebuilding the communications team and mentoring staff and volunteers. I loved helping the church communicate its voice and uniqueness in our community. I loved that the last stage of my ministry helped to transition the online ministry from one who streams to one who is the church. I treasured every moment I was on stage preaching. 

Seven years is a long time to be in a single congregation as a pastor. I have so many cherished memories. Was it all perfect? No. The longer I was there, the more I was reminded that people are people regardless of title, belief, or the organization that employs them. The people that I was privileged to journey with aren’t perfect, just as I am not either. I know that’s news for some who believe clergy are profoundly holy and virtually without fault. It’s true, though: people are people regardless. The individuals that God blessed me to minister with are people, too. We’re flawed, have areas that sorely need growth, and we all need Jesus just as much as the next person. No church is perfect, no person is perfect, and so we surrender and must look to Jesus to make any sense of or progress for the kingdom. These folks needed grace. I need grace. We all need grace. Isn’t that the beautiful part? Church work is messy work, but it’s lovely work because we serve the one who weaves us all together in a tapestry of diversity. As I look back, I am so thankful that I’m a square on that quilt and was privileged to journey with them.

For those seeking rumors, I have none to share.

Church leaders need extra grace during this time, and the decisions they must process are highly complicated and are mostly in uncharted waters. While the sting of rejection hasn’t fully healed, my heart is warmed by the knowledge that our Lord is so good, so faithful, and so steady in times like these. I know that he will continue to bless my former church. In my prayer time, I have found myself praying for the leadership, staff, and congregants to experience Jesus like never before. I have prayed and will continue to do so, for God to lavishly bless them in ways that only he can. I look back with thankfulness, and with hope for their future.

Isn’t it funny how we instantly look for the “wrong” when someone transitions or is let go? I’m guilty of this too, and now, for the first time, being let go from a ministry, I’m on the receiving end. Folks want to know what was wrong, what moral sin I committed, what problem existed. Do you want to know the truth? Are you ready for it?

I did nothing wrong. Was I perfect? Heck no! Do I continue to have areas that need growth? Of course, who doesn’t? So, if I wasn’t perfect, if I have growth areas, how can I say I did nothing wrong? Zoom out with me, and let’s take a better look at the entire picture. I can confidently say that I existed in my role the way God designed me. Why was I fired? It’s pretty easy…who I was becoming and who the church is now and is becoming were drifting apart. Does that make me wrong? Nope. Does that make them wrong? Nope. There was no scandal, no moral failure, and my conscience is clean.

So why did we drift apart? I don’t know, but I do know that God is continuously working in our lives, and each of us changes as time goes on. Does that make either party bad? Nope. All of this points to God’s movement.

Let me type it out if you’ve not picked it up yet: I genuinely love the church that let me go. I sincerely believe in the mission of that church. I am thankful beyond comprehension at the precious time I had in purpose with them. Am I angry? Heck no. Am I hurt? I’m human; it hurts. Am I hopeful? Heck yes. Is God still good? Beyond our wildest dreams!

Here is why I’m sharing this post: As I move forward in my journey, I do not want ANYTHING I say, type, or communicate to be seen as directed toward my last ministry. From this bruised heart, I have nothing bad to say and only wish the best. 

What’s next for us? I have no clue. I do trust that God was not surprised. I do trust that God is good. I do believe that this is only another chapter in the story of my life.

I’m not angry. I’m not bitter. I’m beyond thankful.

For those seeking other stories, spreading rumors, creeping into the light to feed on the pain of others, I’m praying for you. If you allow the Lord, he will satisfy your thirst beyond any potential juicy story. 

For the folks reading this who still call my previous church home, I love you. I’m thankful for you. God still has great journeys ahead for you. 

For the leadership that fired me, I love you. You’re in a difficult place and season. I ask God to grant you wisdom beyond comprehension.

For that unwritten chapter that I’m now traveling through, I hope you’re not a cliffhanger!