In this article read, I look at why so many people in church ministry feel alone, and how we can find encouragement and practical help in these seasons...

While preaching “Christmas in May” I stumbled upon the way Luke's narrative took an "unexpected" turn. In this article read I explore Luke 2, not through angels or shepherds, but a lost twelve-year-old Jesus. This episode reflects on seasons when God seems absent, and how our disorientation might actually be divine invitation, calling us to find Him, not where we expect, but where He truly is.

The Leadership Obsession

Are we facing a leadership crisis or a discipleship crisis? In this article read, I explore why our obsession with developing leaders might be sidelining Jesus’ call to make disciples, and how rediscovering relational, context-rooted discipleship could hold the key to healthier churches and more sustainable leadership for the future.

Resources

* Maplhurs and Mancini (2021) Building Leaders: Blueprints for Developing Leadership at Every Level of Your Church

* Ogden (2016) Transforming Discipleship: Making Disciples a Few at a Time

* Frost & Hirsch (2011) The Faith of Leap: Embracing a Theology of Risk, Adventure & Courage

A few years ago, I was chatting to another church leader. Perhaps you know the type of conversation, the one where we dream about all the things we should be doing, and lament those we haven’t! The conversation turned to the development of church leadership, how do we identify, equip, and empower local leaders within their cultural contexts. We talked about our previous mission experience, and how this informs how we lead now and how we develop indigenous leadership. I had approached the question with what I believed were good assumptions - surely indigenous leaders, those born and raised within a culture, would possess the deepest understanding of their communities and would therefore be the most effective messengers of the Gospel.

His response caught me entirely off guard.

"What makes you think," he asked, leaning forward slightly, "that indigenous leaders really know their own culture and are in the best position to understand it?"

I sat there, momentarily speechless – which for me is a miracle in and of itself. The question challenged a fundamental assumption I had carried for years in my missiological thinking. It was akin to the saying that if you want to know what water is like, don't ask a fish. That those immersed in their native environment might be the least equipped to articulate it. This conversation sparked a season of reflection that eventually became what I've come to call "The Reece Witherspoon Effect" to cross-cultural mission work. Bear in mind I ‘coined’ the term in the back of a bus on winding roads in Connemara – so forgive me if it’s a bit of a wander! Now, to my knowledge, Reece Witherspoon has never published in missiological journals, but she has starred in (or at least represents in my mind) a particular genre of film that offers surprising insights into the dynamics of cultural engagement.

The Reece Witherspoon Effect

Picture it: Reece Witherspoon as a high-flying executive suddenly transplanted to a dusty small town in the American South. She's initially appalled by the mud staining her Jimmy Choo shoes, laments the absence of cosmopolitan cocktails, and finds herself bewildered by local customs that seem impossibly foreign. Through a series of comedic mishaps and genuine encounters something transformative occurs. She begins to see beyond her initial judgments, discovering the beauty and wisdom embedded in this community's way of life. Simultaneously, the local people begin to value the fresh perspective she brings. I think it’s the movie, Sweet Home Alabama, but I think it could be half of her movies. I await the social media pile on should I have offended Miss Witherspoon…

This cinematic trope of the outsider who becomes a catalyst for mutual transformation appears across countless films and stories of course. What makes these narratives resonate so deeply with us? Perhaps because they capture something profoundly true about human connection across difference, something that speaks to the heart of missional engagement. If you are interested in this topic, Mike Cosper's thoughtful exploration of story patterns and their relationship to Gospel truth in his book, The Stories We Tel,l offers great insights into how these recurring cultural motifs often reflect deeper spiritual realities.

The Outsider's Advantage

The conventional wisdom suggests that the most effective messengers of the Gospel should be those deeply embedded within a community, individuals who speak the language fluently, understand the cultural nuances instinctively, and navigate local social dynamics with ease. This perspective makes intuitive sense. Yet as I've studied historical movements where the Gospel has taken root and flourished in new cultural contexts, I've noticed a curious pattern. Often, it is the respectful outsider who serves as the catalyst for spiritual awakening. This paradoxical dynamic explains something about the Gospel's transcendent nature and its power to bridge seemingly insurmountable cultural divides. We see this commonly in the book of Acts, in the ministry of Peter and Paul. The outsider brings their naivety to cultural engagement, almost forgiven for the blundering through social norms.

The Apostle Paul in particular embodied a range of identities, a Jew educated in the rabbinic tradition, yet also a Roman citizen familiar with Hellenistic thought and culture. This unique positioning, simultaneously an insider and outsider to various communities, enabled him to function as an extraordinarily effective cross-cultural communicator of the Gospel. When Paul entered Athens in Acts 17, he demonstrated remarkable cultural sensitivity, even quoting their own poets. Yet he was unhindered by the philosophical assumptions that might have blinded a local Athenian to the radical implications of resurrection. His outsider status allowed him to see both the admirable aspects of Athenian spiritual hunger ("I see that in every way you are very religious") and the fundamental limitations of their approach.

Throughout his ministry, Paul often found himself criticized from multiple directions. Sometimes being a ‘neither’ means that you tend to stand out. He was too Jewish for some Gentiles, and too accommodating to Gentiles for some Jewish believers. Yet this position, this "outsiderness," became not a liability but his greatest strength in building bridges for the Gospel.

How Does This Work Today?

This dynamic continues to manifest itself in contemporary mission contexts. Missionaries entering unfamiliar cultural settings often find that their outsider status, approached with appropriate humility and genuine curiosity, becomes an unexpected asset. Far from being merely an obstacle to overcome, this position of naivety creates openings for conversation that might otherwise remain closed. Of course, this should not be contrived. However, we should also not expect to read a few books, watch a few documentaries and think we understand what it means to be from that culture either!

The outsider's questions can give voice to questions already present but unspoken within the community, creating space for a conversation about which cultural practices might be preserved and which might be reconsidered in light of Gospel values. We saw this so many times in Mexico. Things that are just assumed and followed along with. Yet, there were also cultures that had been adopted from the West that weren’t being questioned either. I have witnessed guys lose their body weight in sweat wearing a three-piece suit preaching outside a rural Mexican home because they were emulating the missionary that told them that this is the dress that God expects for a preacher. This is what I mean by the outsider's advantage. The freedom to ask questions that insiders might not feel permitted to raise, to see patterns that have become invisible to those immersed in them daily, and to challenge assumptions without the weight of having violated long-established social relationships.

The ‘Skill’ of Naive Questions

When an outsider asks, "Why do we have to do it like this?" the question often penetrates to the heart of cultural assumptions that have gone unexamined for generations. It’s the question of a child, “Why?” The response might begin with defensive justification. "This is our tradition, our way" but I have found it frequently evolves into deeper reflection. Sometimes, an honest answer eventually emerges. "We don't actually know why we do it this way anymore," or, "Many of us wish we could change this, but no one seems to want to have that conversation."

These naive questions, questions that might seem impertinent coming from an insider, can break through cultural barriers to which the light of the Gospel can shine. An outsider, approaching with genuine curiosity rather than judgment, becomes a mirror in which the community can see itself more clearly, perhaps for the first time recognising both the beauty and the brokenness in their cultural practices. Yet, we also must be prepared to be corrected by culture ourselves. It used to drive me mad in Mexico, that my Pastor friend didn’t wear a watch and was almost always late for our meetings. After waiting almost an hour for him to arrive, he told me he was caught up with another person and didn’t realise the time. “Why don’t you get a watch then!?”, was my impatient reply. When he replied, “Because spending time with people is always more important than knowing the time,” I slunk back in my chair, humbled. We need to be careful that we don’t think ‘our’ way equals the right way.

The Dangers of Outsider Engagement

We must acknowledge that this outsider advantage has often been distorted and abused throughout mission history. The colonial shadow looms large over much of Western mission endeavours, where the outsider's perspective was not offered as a gift but imposed as superiority. Cultural practices were dismissed not out of prophetic critique but cultural arrogance. The line between bringing fresh perspective and bringing cultural imperialism has too often been crossed. I've winced hearing Western missionaries pronounce opinions that are short hand for, "In my country, we do it the right way," without the slightest recognition of the planks in their own cultural eyes. This approach reflects not the humble questioning of the Gospel-bearer but the false confidence of a coloniser. When I witness the growth of the church in the majority world, and the limited growth of the church in Europe, maybe we are the ones who need missionaries to come to us rather than the other way around!

The outsider must approach cross-cultural engagement with profound humility, recognising that God has been at work in every culture long before their arrival. The question is never whether God is present in a community but how He is already moving there and how the Gospel might speak both affirmation and transformation into that specific context. When I reflect on my own cross-cultural experiences, I'm haunted by the times I failed to discern this distinction, moments when I confused my cultural preferences with Gospel imperatives or rushed to judgment about practices I didn't fully understand. Learning to distinguish between cultural expression and Gospel truth remains one of the most challenging aspects of cross-cultural mission work.

Finding the Balance: Cultural Immersion and Prophetic Distance

The most effective cross-cultural witnesses seem to cultivate a delicate balance between immersion and distance, between being an outsider and also on the inside. I’m thinking of Hudson Taylor, Mary Slessor, and Amy Carmichael, who appear to have modelled this well. They were driven it seems, by a love for God, and a genuine love for the people they lived among. They committed themselves to deep cultural learning, studying language, participating in community life, building genuine relationships, and approached differences with curiosity rather than judgment. Yet they also maintained enough critical distance to see patterns that might have remained invisible to insiders. They were, and are, loved and a huge part of the fabric of the places they lived. I love the simplicity of the burial place of Amy Carmichael in India, with the simple headstone inscription, Amma, an endearing term meaning Mum.

This balance reflects Jesus's own incarnational ministry. Christ entered fully into human experience, taking on flesh and dwelling among us. Yet He also maintained a prophetic distance that allowed Him to challenge the religious and cultural assumptions of His day. "You have heard it said... but I tell you” becomes the refrain of the One who honours tradition while calling it to greater alignment with God's purposes.

Perhaps the most profound manifestation of this balance appears when outsiders and insiders partner in Gospel work, each bringing their unique perspective to the task of contextualising the unchanging message for a particular cultural soil. The outsider might notice cultural blindspots that insiders cannot see. The insider navigates complex social dynamics that remain a mystery to the newcomer. Together, they embody a more complete witness than either could offer alone.

Reece Witherspoon Reconsidered

Returning to my original metaphor, the "Reece Witherspoon Effect" suggests that there is something fundamentally transformative about the encounter between outsider and community when approached with mutual respect and openness. The outsider doesn't arrive with all the answers but with questions that create space for new conversations. The community doesn't passively receive but actively engages, teaching the outsider even as they reconsider their own assumptions.

In the typical Reece Witherspoon film, the transformation is always mutual. She doesn't simply adapt to their ways, nor do they simply adopt hers. Instead, something new emerges from the encounter, a third way that honours the wisdom of the community while incorporating fresh insights from beyond its boundaries.

Is this not a picture of what contextual Gospel witness might look like at its best? Not colonial imposition, nor uncritical adoption of all cultural elements, but a mutual transformation guided by Scripture and Spirit that leads to authentic expressions of Christian faith within each cultural context.

Embracing Our Outsider Status

What if, instead of seeing our outsider status as primarily an obstacle to overcome in cross-cultural ministry, we recognized it as a potential gift to be stewarded wisely? What if we embraced a kind of "Reece Witherspoon missiology" that acknowledges both the limitations and the opportunities that come with entering cultural spaces as respectful outisders? This doesn't diminish the essential role of indigenous leadership in the church's mission. Indeed, the goal of all cross-cultural witness should be the empowerment of local believers who can contextualize the Gospel in ways no outsider ever could. But it does suggest that outsiders might make unique contributions precisely because of, not despite, their outsider perspective.

Perhaps all of us should consider "Reece Witherspoon-ing" ourselves more intentionally, placing ourselves in contexts where we don't have all the answers, where our cultural assumptions are regularly challenged, where we must depend on the hospitality and wisdom of others. This posture of humble learning combined with fresh perspective might be more missiologically fruitful than we have previously imagined.

After all, the Kingdom of God itself represents the ultimate "outsider perspective." It is ultimately a divine reality breaking into human experience, affirming what aligns with God's purposes while transforming what does not. As bearers of this Kingdom message, we are all, in some sense, meant to be both deeply engaged with our cultural contexts and not entirely at home in them.

Show Notes

How do we nurture curious, questioning leaders without fear? In this article read episode, I explore why curiosity is crucial for church leadership, and why questions are gifts, not threats.

Resources

Jaroslav Pelikan, The Vindication of Tradition

Edgar H. Schein, Organizational Culture and Leadership

Peter F. Drucker, Management Challenges for the 21st Century

Ronald A. Heifetz, Leadership Without Easy Answers 

Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, "The Danger of a Single Story," TED Talk, July 2009. 

Michael Frost, Exiles: Living Missionally in a Post-Christian Culture

Margaret J. Wheatley, Leadership and the New Science

In this episode I give a short update about my change to the posting schedule of Missional Imagination...

Show Notes: Planting Churches in the Desert Places

In this episode, I reflect on a year spent with Remi & Aurelie Marat, a French couple gaining experience in rural Irish ministry before returning to plant a church in Chateau Thierry, France. Their time together challenged my assumptions about rural church planting, and even changed the terms I use!

Instead of viewing these areas as simply “rural,” Remi offered the metaphor of the “desert” places of scarcity, testing, and surprising spiritual encounter. I explore what it means to plant churches in these overlooked, under-resourced contexts, drawing from biblical imagery, personal stories, and honest reflections on the challenges of sustainability, loneliness, cultural misunderstanding, and long-term vision.

To learn more about or support the Marat family:👉 wesupportmission.org/the-marat-family

Episode Summary

In this article reading, I dive into the role of preaching within modern ministry. While a well-crafted sermon holds undeniable power to inspire and convey eternal truths, I explore its limitations when it becomes the sole focus of pastoral work. Drawing from historical perspectives and addressing contemporary challenges, I examine the pressures pastors face in a performance-driven culture and the impact on both shepherds and their flocks. The article calls for a recalibration, a balanced approach to ministry that pairs preaching with pastoral care, discipleship, and community nurturing, reflecting a more holistic vision of leadership.

Relevant Reading and Resources

Books:

Preaching by Timothy Keller

The Supremacy of God in Preaching by John Piper

The Pastor: A Memoir by Eugene Peterson

Brothers, We Are Not Professionals by John Piper

Podcasts:

The Rise and Fall of Mars Hill – Examines the pitfalls of celebrity culture in ministry.

Preaching and Preachers by Jason K. Allen – Discussions on preaching with nods to wider ministry themes.

The Expositors Collective – a great resource for those interested in understanding preaching.

If you want to read and listen to more of my writing, follow me at https://jonnypollockwrites.substack.com

Introduction

Over the last 20 years of my life in ministry I have noticed a pattern that I’ve become more and more uncomfortable with. There appears a constant drive to measure what matters, or at least, what is easy to count. We see it in the careful tallying of salvations, baptisms, and churches planted at network events. Or the ‘how big is your church’ conversations at conferences. Of course, numbers are people, and so growing churches and transformed lives are an amazing indication of God’s grace. At first glance, these numbers tell a story of growth, impact, and blessing. But if we pause and reflect, we discover a tension that can undermine the very heart of mission work: when the metrics begin to shape the work rather than merely describe it.

We live in societies that are fixated on measurable outputs, and so must ask ourselves an important question? Are we capturing genuine transformation, or are we simply measuring what is easiest to count? Is our ministry becoming a game of spreadsheets and performance reports where the stories are adjusted to meet donor expectations? This blog explores these questions, interrogating the ways in which numerical metrics may distort our understanding of authentic mission and church planting, and offers a path back to a storytelling culture that embraces transparency, nuance, and true transformation.

The Tyranny of the Spreadsheet

I imagine that this has been the case in the history of mission work, but it appears in the last 50 years the obsession with quantifiable success has become all too common. I have sat in conversations with directors and regional leaders and been asked for updates on our work. What I have noticed is that there is a desired pull toward the neat, compelling numbers that seem to prove God’s favour and the effectiveness of a ministry. To show increase and growth that can be quantified. But this drive for clarity and certainty has its dangers.

Missionaries and church planters often work under immense cultural and financial pressures. Many feel compelled to produce reports laden with statistics and stories that can be easily showcased in newsletters or fundraising presentations. Here, the temptation is as seductive as it is dangerous: to exaggerate achievements, to polish stories until they shine with a veneer of success, or, worst of all, to manufacture outcomes that did not truly occur. This is not merely about misrepresentation; it is about the subtle shift from tracking progress to performing progress. Many may lament this and take a dim view of missionaries and church planters who do this. Yet, the question must be asked of us all, especially if the only support people are given is in pounds, dollars and euros. I have spoken to many people in ministry over the years who feel under pressure to ‘perform’ to show results, to give a return on investment. This may or may not be the case, but for some people, it feels like it. Or we make people feel lesser as they are subconsciously compared between radically different contexts.

This reporting ‘spreadsheet’, with its columns and rows of numbers, offers the illusion of absolute truth. Every entry becomes a marker of progress, and every zero a failure. In this environment, there is little room for the messy reality of ministry. The doubts, the slow breakthroughs, the persistent struggles, all the aspects of our work that defy neat quantification, are pushed aside. We end up with a curated version of the mission story, one that highlights headline successes but sidesteps the long, often painful process of discipleship and transformation. Our mission stories become flattened under the weight of over-simplified metrics. When every nuance is forced into a data entry, the organic messiness of authentic human and spiritual transformation is lost, and we risk valuing form over substance.

Counting vs. Measuring: What Are We Really Tracking?

Brad Briscoe once made a compelling distinction in the realm of church growth: counting tallies activity, while measuring assesses transformation. This insight is vital if we are to reclaim an authentic narrative in ministry. You can access Brad’s book for free here (LINK)

Consider the difference between simply counting the number of people who attend an event and understanding the quality of relationships that emerge from that gathering. A headcount might boast of a full house, yet it offers little insight into whether attendees experienced a sense of belonging, hope, or a deep, personal connection to Jesus. In contrast, measuring transformation means exploring the qualitative changes in people’s lives, whether long-term relationships are forged, if discipleship begins to take root, or if a person’s worldview is genuinely shifted toward a life of purpose and faith.

The transformative aspects of ministry are often slow, subtle, and inherently non-linear. In fact, they are more rollercoaster than gentle stream! They don’t lend themselves to immediate, easy-to-capture metrics. Spiritual growth might be evidenced by a quiet conversation that alters a life trajectory, or a small act of compassion that gradually builds into lasting community trust. A marriage mended, or a peace that surrounds a family in sorrow as they lean on God. These moments define our true impact, yet they resist commodification into neat numbers.

Reflecting on broader cultural tendencies, we can see how an overreliance on simplistic, binary evaluations often fails to capture the nuances of human experience. When we measure only what is immediately apparent, we risk missing the profound, gradual shifts that truly define transformation. Just as focusing solely on superficial outputs may mask deep, underlying changes, authentic mission work unfolds gradually, nurtured by small, deliberate acts of faith and community-building that resist easy quantification.

The Seduction of the “Big Story”

One of the main ways that this affects the focus of mission and church planting, is towards an irresistible allure to the “big story.” Dramatic testimonies and narratives of rapid, sweeping change capture our imagination and command attention. We are a people who thrive on stories. These stories, vivid and bold, often become the standard against which success is measured. The narrative of quick conversions and exponential growth provides a sense of momentum and divine favour that is difficult to ignore. The wilder the story, the more amazing the grace, the more ‘lost’ the person is, the more we drink it up.

However, there is a profound danger in gravitating too forcefully toward these dramatic narratives. When the mission world becomes fixated on viral stories and headline-worthy events, there arises a subtle pressure to craft narratives that adhere to these expectations, even at the expense of honesty. In our eagerness to present impressive results, we risk fostering a culture where the appearance of success is valued over the slow, quiet reality of genuine transformation. We saw this in the story of Tony Anthony in Taming the Tiger, later exposed as misleading and falsification. (LINK) Oh, how we lapped up his stories, and excitedly shared them, while overlooking the ordinary acts of everyday faithfulness that others were really involved in.

This issue is not confined solely to ministry of course. In various fields, there is a tendency to favour the flashy and the sensational over sustained, authentic progress. The risk is that, in pursuing the allure of the “big story,” we may end up constructing our ministry around impressions rather than the lived, enduring reality of transformation. When we choose stories for their dramatic effect rather than their truth, we compromise the integrity of our narrative and risk establishing unrealistic standards for success. The result is a growing disconnect between what is reported and what is truly experienced on the ground. The rare, electrifying moments of conversion may dominate the narrative, while the gradual, day-to-day nurturing of faith and community, the true work of the Kingdom, remains in the background, often unseen and uncelebrated.

Faithfulness in the Small and Unseen

Scripture offers us a powerful perspective in this matter, urging us to value faithfulness over fruitfulness. Galatians 6:9 encourages perseverance in doing good, and Luke 16:10 reminds us that faithfulness in small matters serves as the foundation for greater responsibilities. The work of the Kingdom is often akin to planting a seed, a small, humble act that may go unnoticed until it eventually blossoms into something great.

Consider the parable of the mustard seed in Matthew 13:31–32. Here, Jesus describes a seed that, despite its tiny size, grows into a large tree providing shelter and sustenance. Similarly, the genuine impact of ministry often starts as a small, almost imperceptible act, a quiet conversation, a shared meal, or a moment of empathetic listening that over time culminates in lives transformed by the grace of God. These are not the moments that typically make it into annual reports or promotional newsletters, yet they are the true markers of lasting change.

It is tempting to dismiss these “small” moments as insignificant when placed alongside the grand narratives of rapid conversion and dramatic growth. However, the reality is that the work of building a lasting community of faith is painstakingly incremental. The subtle shifts, the daily acts of grace, and the quiet victories of personal transformation are all threads in the larger tapestry of God’s work. By focusing only on what is immediately measurable, we do a disservice to the profound and often intangible aspects of faith that define our ministry.

Our collective experience teaches us that depth and authenticity rarely conform to simplistic metrics. When we allow ourselves to be consumed by numbers alone, we risk masking the quieter, yet more powerful, realities of lives being reshaped by grace, a process that often unfolds unseen and unsung in the hustle and bustle of daily ministry.

Toward a Culture of Honest Storytelling

What, then, is the way forward? In a world where metrics have become near idols, there is an urgent need to cultivate a culture of honest storytelling, one that values transparency, nuance, and humility over superficial impressiveness.

Leaders and teams in ministry can take deliberate steps to foster an environment where truth is celebrated, even when it does not yield immediate, measurable gains. Here are a few practices that can help us steer toward a more authentic approach:

Celebrate Slow Growth and Relational Breakthroughs: Recognise that transformation often happens in increments. Instead of fixating solely on headcounts and event attendances, focus on the deep, lasting relationships formed over time. These relationships, built on trust, empathy, and long-term discipleship, are the unseen roots that eventually yield visible fruit.

Resist Exaggeration in Donor Reports: Financial and administrative pressures can drive us toward embellishment. However, there is an ethical imperative to report honestly, acknowledging both our successes and our challenges. Donors, when engaged through a transparent narrative, are often more supportive of the long-term, organic nature of ministry.

Create Safe Spaces for Reporting “Failure” or Long, Quiet Seasons: Not every season in mission work is marked by dramatic breakthroughs. Often, quieter seasons are periods of intense learning and preparation. By normalizing the discussion of setbacks and slow growth, we can destigmatize these experiences and encourage a fuller, more honest exchange of stories.

Embrace a Biblical View of Faithfulness: Reflect on passages such as Mark 4:26–29, which remind us that the Kingdom of God grows in mysterious and often imperceptible ways. Integrating this perspective into our narrative encourages us to focus on long-term, faithful living rather than immediate, but potentially superficial, results.

There is a beautiful irony at work here. In our pursuit of perfection as measured by numbers, we risk losing sight of the authentic, messy reality of faith. By shifting our focus from what can be easily measured to what is deeply experienced, we nurture a ministry culture that values integrity over appearances. This approach not only honours the true work of the Kingdom, but it also aligns with the complex, multifaceted nature of human experience, a blend of triumphs, trials, and the unspoken moments of grace.

Conclusion: Stories Worth Telling

Ultimately, the true measure of our mission work is not found in a tidy spreadsheet report, but in the messy, beautiful narratives of lives transformed. The pressure to impress with dramatic numbers and headline-worthy events is pervasive. Yet, in resisting that pressure, we find a radical truth: telling the truth is an act of faith. Our world is fixated on immediate results, but embracing honesty, even when it feels small or insufficient, is nothing short of revolutionary.

Every ministry journey is unique. Some yield immediate, visible outcomes; others grow quietly, almost imperceptibly, in the background. Both patterns hold value when viewed through the lens of faithfulness. True success in mission and church planting is measured not by the number of baptisms or the volume of statistics, but by the enduring impact on lives changed, relationships nurtured, and the steadfast commitment to following God’s call.

The challenges we face in our efforts to communicate ministry success remind us that transformation is rarely as simple as a set of tallies. It is a tapestry woven from countless small threads of care, courage, and persistence. When we resist the temptation to inflate our numbers and instead embrace the genuine heartbeat of our ministry, we honour not only the work of Christ but also the unique, humble journeys of the communities we serve.

As fellow labourers in God’s mission field, let us have the courage to speak the truth in our updates, the wisdom to recognise that the deepest growth is not always visible, and the faith to trust that even the smallest act of kindness is a seed sown for a harvest beyond measure. May our narratives reflect a commitment to transparency and integrity, values that stand as a testament to the Kingdom we are called to build.

In a culture that increasingly prizes what can be measured over what truly matters, let your story be one of honest, transformative faith, a story worth telling even when it defies easy quantification. Authenticity and integrity in our mission are the ultimate reflections of the Kingdom, and that is a radical act of faith.

At present, my Substack is free, although if you fancied buying me a coffee to keep me caffeinated and writing click the link below!

Lies Small Church Pastors Believe

If We Just Had More

In this series I take a look at some of the struggles that small church pastors face, and the lies that we can believe. If you are a small church pastor I’d love to hear from your experience, and the ways in which God has shown you grace and hope in your ministry.