Growing Pains

I’ve been in ministry long enough to know one thing for sure:

Just about the time you think you’ve figured out the flow, the flow changes. 😅

People change. Needs change. Seasons change. Ministries grow. Some things that used to work beautifully suddenly don’t work anymore. Roles shift. Responsibilities move around. Something you once poured a tremendous amount of time into may not need you in the same way anymore.

And sometimes, that hurts.

I think those are the growing pains of ministry.

We tend to think growth should always feel exciting. More people. More opportunities. Bigger impact. New things happening.

But growth can also feel uncomfortable.

Sometimes growth looks like letting go.

Sometimes it looks like handing something you built to someone else.

Sometimes it looks like changing a system you really liked.

Sometimes it means stepping into something you never planned to do.

And sometimes it simply means admitting, “The way we’ve always done this isn’t the best way to do it anymore.”

That one can be hard.

Because somewhere along the way, without even realizing it, we can become attached to our way of doing ministry.

Our meeting.
Our event.
Our role.
Our team.
Our idea.
Our schedule.
Our ministry.

But there’s one little problem with that.

It was never ours.

“For we are labourers together with God...”
1 Corinthians 3:9

We are laborers. We are stewards. We get the incredible privilege of participating in what God is doing, but the work belongs to Him.

That changes the way we look at change.

If the goal is protecting my role, change feels threatening.

If the goal is protecting my idea, a different idea feels personal.

If the goal is keeping things comfortable, every adjustment feels frustrating.

But if the goal is reaching people and helping them grow in Christ, then the question becomes completely different.

Instead of asking, “Why are we changing this?”

Maybe we start asking, “What does this season require of us?”

There’s a passage in 1 Corinthians that I think speaks beautifully to this.

Paul said:

“I have planted, Apollos watered; but God gave the increase.”
1 Corinthians 3:6

I love that picture because everybody had a role, but nobody got to claim the harvest.

Paul planted.

Apollos watered.

God gave the increase.

And maybe one of the marks of maturity in ministry is becoming okay with the fact that our assignment can change while the mission stays the same.

Maybe you planted in one season and someone else will water in the next.

Maybe you led something for years and now your greatest contribution is preparing someone else to lead it.

Maybe the ministry that once needed most of your attention is healthy enough now for you to turn your attention somewhere else.

That doesn’t mean what you did before wasn’t valuable.

It may actually mean it worked.

I think we need to remember that more often.

We can become so attached to maintaining what we built that we forget why we built it in the first place.

The goal was never to keep a particular program alive forever.

The goal was never to make sure I always had a particular title.

The goal was never for everything to stay exactly the way I liked it.

The end game is much bigger than that.

We want people to encounter Jesus.

We want people to experience freedom.

We want people to grow deep roots in the Word.

We want marriages strengthened and families changed.

We want children and teenagers to grow up knowing Jesus.

We want women and men discovering their gifts and realizing that God has a purpose for their lives.

We want to raise up leaders who will eventually do things we used to do, and hopefully do some of them even better than we did.

We want disciples who make disciples.

That’s the end game.

And if changing a meeting time helps us do that, change it.

If restructuring a ministry helps us do that, restructure it.

If someone else is better equipped to lead something in this season, let them lead.

If something needs to end so something healthier can begin, let it end.

If God moves us from a place where we were comfortable into a place where we have to learn all over again, then we learn.

There’s wisdom in knowing the difference between quitting because something is hard and pivoting because the season has changed.

Jesus Himself never seemed overly concerned with maintaining a comfortable routine. He went where people were. He stopped for interruptions. He changed locations. He taught crowds and then walked away from crowds. He poured into twelve and then narrowed His focus even further at times.

The mission never changed.

The method did.

Maybe that’s something those of us in ministry need to hold onto a little more tightly:

Be deeply committed to the mission and loosely committed to the method.

Because methods will change.

Churches will change.

Teams will change.

Our own roles will change.

And yes, sometimes those changes come with growing pains.

But growing pains are usually evidence that something isn’t staying the same.

And maybe that isn’t something we should be afraid of.

Maybe the question isn’t, “How do I keep doing what I’ve always done?”

Maybe it’s:

“God, what does faithfulness look like in this season?”

Because at the end of the day, I don’t want to spend my life protecting a position, a program, or even an idea simply because I loved it.

I want to be willing to plant when He says plant.

Water when He says water.

Lead when He says lead.

Step back when He says step back.

Start something new when He says start.

And let go when He says let go.

Knowing all along that none of those things were ever the end game anyway.

He was.

And if we keep our eyes on that, maybe the growing pains become a little easier to understand.

🤍,

Lynn