Failure. Rejection. As a fellow church leader, I understand the weight of these words and the emotions they elicit.
Twenty years ago, my family and I uprooted our lives, moved across Arkansas, and planted a church with the full backing of our denominational leadership—or so we thought. Just three months in, the support disappeared. The church plant was abruptly shut down, and I was left feeling lost and embarrassed—like an utter failure. What would I tell my wife and kids? How would I face those who believed in me and more importantly the work I was doing?
In that moment of despair, everything in me wanted to retreat, to hide from the overwhelming sense of loss. Perhaps you’ve been there, too—standing in the aftermath of a ministry that didn’t turn out the way you had envisioned. The enemy whispers that you’re finished, that you’ve failed not just in your calling, but in your life.
Even in those times of despair, God was still with me and had a plan. I remembered the truth of Micah 7:8: “Do not gloat over me, my enemies! For though I fall, I will rise again.” God wasn’t done with me yet, and he’s not done with you either.
Looking back now, I can now see how that painful experience was a necessary step in my journey. What felt like an end was actually the beginning of something far greater than I had imagined. Today, my family and I are blessed enough to lead a thriving church that impacts more lives than I could have dreamed. We’ve partnered with church planters around the world and, by God’s grace alone, built a ministry that reaches far beyond the borders of our initial vision.
What I once perceived as failure became the foundation for a future that God had planned all along. And I’ve learned something vital: The Lord works through the real, flawed version of us, not the polished image we sometimes try to project. It was when I embraced my authentic self—insecurities, emotional scars and all—that God began to work in ways I never anticipated.
As church and ministry leaders, we often feel the pressure to have it all together, to be the example others look to. But the truth is, living authentically in ministry means acknowledging our failures, not just our successes. We live in a time of cancel culture, where vulnerability and mistakes can lead to harsh judgment or even the loss of a career. But what if we embraced authenticity instead of hiding from it? What if we saw failure not as something to be feared but as an opportunity to grow?
My own journey has taught me that failure doesn’t define us; it refines us and simultaneously encourages others. Each setback has strengthened my resolve, deepened my faith and equipped me to partner more effectively with others in advancing the Kingdom. It has reminded me that potential isn’t just about what we’ve accomplished, but about what God is still calling us to do.
