Finding God’s Rhythm in Ministry
I sat on the edge of my bed this morning, staring at my planner with its mile-long to-do list. Bible study to prepare, blog posts to write, ladies' retreat sessions to plan, Holiday Bible Club to coordinate, missionary reports due... My heart ached with the weight of it all while my body protested with its usual chorus of pain.
"Lord," I whispered, "I don't think I can do this anymore."
Have you felt caught between these two realities? On one side, there's the undeniable truth that souls hang in the balance—real people who will spend eternity somewhere. On the other, there are the physical, emotional, and spiritual limitations of our humanity.
This tension is as old as ministry itself.
I sat on the edge of my bed this morning, staring at my planner with its mile-long to-do list. Bible study to prepare, blog posts to write, ladies' retreat sessions to plan, Holiday Bible Club to coordinate, missionary reports due... My heart ached with the weight of it all while my body protested with its usual chorus of pain.
"Lord," I whispered, "I don't think I can do this anymore."
Have you felt caught between these two realities? On one side, there's the undeniable truth that souls hang in the balance—real people who will spend eternity somewhere. On the other, there are the physical, emotional, and spiritual limitations of our humanity.
This tension is as old as ministry itself. The Apostle Paul described it perfectly: "We are troubled on every side, yet not distressed; we are perplexed, but not in despair" (2 Corinthians 4:8). He understood both the urgency and the reality of human frailty.
I've witnessed two dangerous extremes in Wales. Some believers hide behind "avoiding burnout" as an excuse for minimal engagement with a lost world. Others work themselves into exhaustion, believing the salvation of others rests entirely on their shoulders. Neither approach reflects God's design.
Scripture provides a more excellent way. Jesus Himself withdrew to pray, even with multitudes seeking Him. Yet He also said, "I must work the works of him that sent me, while it is day: the night cometh, when no man can work" (John 9:4). He demonstrated perfect balance—urgent purpose without frantic anxiety.
Here's what the Lord is teaching me about this sacred balance:
Recognize the difference between carrying a burden and being crushed by it. Jesus said, "My yoke is easy, and my burden is light" (Matthew 11:30). If ministry consistently crushes you, you're likely carrying something He never asked you to carry.
Steward your resources wisely. Your health, time, and energy are not unlimited. They're gifts to be invested strategically. Sometimes the most spiritual decision is to work smarter, not just harder.
Remember who the actual Savior is. We plant and water, but God gives the increase. Our responsibility is faithful obedience, not results.
Build ministry partnerships. Even Jesus sent disciples out in pairs. Who might God be calling to share your burden?
I've learned that true effectiveness isn't measured by exhaustion but by obedience. When I serve from overflow rather than emptiness, I bring living water rather than stagnant drops squeezed from an empty vessel.
Perhaps the question isn't whether we should do more or less, but rather: Are we doing the right things, in the right way, for the right reasons, with the right power source? Ministry that flows from intimate connection with Christ will bear lasting fruit without destroying the branch that bears it.
Remember, God called us to walk with Him first and to serve others from the overflow of that walk, not in place of it. And God never calls us to work for Him in a way that disconnects us from Him.
Religion Vs. Relationship
As we minister in mid-Wales, we're discovering a heartbreaking trend that has emptied many chapels across this beautiful country—religion itself.
I can't tell you how many adults have shared nearly identical stories with us. As children, they were bundled off to church or chapel every Sunday without explanation, marched down the aisle in uncomfortable clothes, and told to sit still and be quiet. They memorized prayers and recited responses without understanding why. They were taught how to act but never why it mattered.
"We just did it because we had to," one elderly gentleman told me, his weathered face creasing with the memory. "Mam would've had our hides if we'd refused."
Church services were as dry as month-old scones—formal, repetitive, and utterly devoid of life. The ministers droned on about the stories of the Bible without ever bringing about an application to the people or helping them understand how and why the Bible is still relevant today.
As we minister in mid-Wales, we're discovering a heartbreaking trend that has emptied many chapels across this beautiful country—religion itself.
I can't tell you how many adults have shared nearly identical stories with us. As children, they were bundled off to church or chapel every Sunday without explanation, marched down the aisle in uncomfortable clothes, and told to sit still and be quiet. They memorized prayers and recited responses without understanding why. They were taught how to act but never why it mattered.
"We just did it because we had to," one elderly gentleman told me, his weathered face creasing with the memory. "Mam would've had our hides if we'd refused."
Church services were as dry as month-old scones—formal, repetitive, and utterly devoid of life. The ministers droned on about the stories of the Bible without ever bringing about an application to the people or helping them understand how and why the Bible is still relevant today.
So what happened? These children grew up, gained independence, and made a perfectly logical choice. They walked away. They turned their backs on forced standards and religious emptiness to seek peace and fulfillment elsewhere. Who could blame them?
Their hearts hardened toward God because of what religion had taught them. God was distant, demanding, and disappointing. Church was boring, burdensome, and bland (and sadly still is in much of our area).
Yet something beautiful happens when Jason and I chat with some of these same individuals. They lean forward, curious, and often say, "There's something different about you. You're not like the other religious people I know."
This allows us to explain the critical difference between religion and a relationship with Christ.
Religion is about ticking boxes. Did you attend the service? Check. Did you put something in the offering? Check. Did you avoid significant sins this week? Check-ish.
But a relationship with Christ? That's something altogether different and wonderful.
"For by grace are ye saved through faith; and that not of yourselves: it is the gift of God: Not of works, lest any man should boast." (Ephesians 2:8-9)
A relationship with Jesus isn't about earning God's favor through religious performance. It's about receiving His love as a gift and responding to that love naturally.
Religion says, "Do this, and God might accept you."
Relationship says, "God already accepts you because of what Christ has done."
Religion is based on fear.
A relationship is based on love.
Religion focuses on external behaviors.
A relationship transforms from the inside out.
I've seen eyes light up when people grasp this distinction. The God they've been running from isn't the real God at all, just a hollow religious caricature.
Last month, a woman nearly wept, telling me, "Since I've met you and Jason, I see things differently. I wonder now what I've been missing all this time."
That's why we keep serving in Wales, sharing cups of tea and the genuine gospel. Because a relationship with Jesus isn't another religious burden. It's the freedom these dear souls have been seeking all along.
Finding Rest for Our Souls
I take the Boy Scout motto "Be prepared" to new heights. When Jason and I go for a longer hike, I often load the backpacks with anything and everything we might need—a first aid kit, blankets, flashlights, extra clothing, food, water, and even a whistle. Sometimes, I go overboard and have the packs so heavy we can't carry them.
I over-plan and over-prepare for everything, whether a hiking trip or a dinner party. I get so caught up in anticipating every possible need or problem that I forget to simply enjoy being.
I take the Boy Scout motto "Be prepared" to new heights. When Jason and I go for a longer hike, I often load the backpacks with anything and everything we might need—a first aid kit, blankets, flashlights, extra clothing, food, water, and even a whistle. Sometimes, I go overboard and have the packs so heavy we can't carry them.
I over-plan and over-prepare for everything, whether a hiking trip or a dinner party. I get so caught up in anticipating every possible need or problem that I forget to simply enjoy being.
I'll spend hours preparing for a Bible study or church event, ensuring every detail is perfect. But by the time the event rolls around, I'm so exhausted and frazzled that I can barely keep my eyes open, let alone fully engage with what's happening. And that's when I remember the story of Martha in Luke 10.
Martha was busy preparing for Jesus' visit, ensuring everything was perfect. But in the process, she missed out on spending time with Him. Her sister Mary, on the other hand, sat at Jesus' feet and listened to His teachings. When Martha complained to Jesus about her sister, He gently reminded her that Mary had chosen the better thing.
It's good to be prepared, but there's a fine line between being prepared and obsessive. And when we cross that line, we risk missing out on the very thing we're trying so hard to prepare for—a deeper relationship with God and others.
I don't want to be so caught up in the details that I miss the bigger picture. I want to focus on what matters. So, from now on, I will be more mindful of my tendency to over-prepare. I'll still pack a first aid kit and some snacks for our hikes, but I won't weigh myself down with unnecessary burdens.
And when it comes to life in general, I'll try to remember that it's okay to let go of my need for control and enjoy the moment. After all, that's what really matters in the end.
"Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light." (Matthew 11:28-30)
Trusting God to Open Doors
In His letter to Philadelphia, Jesus introduces Himself as the One with the key of David, who opens and shuts doors. He alone determines our ministry opportunities. The believers in Philadelphia grasped this concept, utilising the opportunities presented by Him rather than relying on their own abilities.
Despite having little power, Philadelphia faithfully kept Jesus' Word and did not deny His name, even when pressured. With commendation, Jesus assures them He has placed an open door before them that no one can shut. They recognised that fruitfulness flows from abiding in Christ, not from self-effort, and with that knowledge, they were fulfilling their purpose as a church.
7 And to the angel of the church in Philadelphia write; These things saith he that is holy, he that is true, he that hath the key of David, he that openeth, and no man shutteth; and shutteth, and no man openeth; 8 I know thy works: behold, I have set before thee an open door, and no man can shut it: for thou hast a little strength, and hast kept my word, and hast not denied my name. 9 Behold, I will make them of the synagogue of Satan, which say they are Jews, and are not, but do lie; behold, I will make them to come and worship before thy feet, and to know that I have loved thee. 10 Because thou hast kept the word of my patience, I also will keep thee from the hour of temptation, which shall come upon all the world, to try them that dwell upon the earth. 11 Behold, I come quickly: hold that fast which thou hast, that no man take thy crown. 12 Him that overcometh will I make a pillar in the temple of my God, and he shall go no more out: and I will write upon him the name of my God, and the name of the city of my God, which is new Jerusalem, which cometh down out of heaven from my God: and I will write upon him my new name. 13 He that hath an ear, let him hear what the Spirit saith unto the churches. - Revelation 3:7-13
In His letter to Philadelphia, Jesus introduces Himself as the One with the key of David, who opens and shuts doors. He alone determines our ministry opportunities. The believers in Philadelphia grasped this concept, utilising the opportunities presented by Him rather than relying on their own abilities.
Despite having little power, Philadelphia faithfully kept Jesus' Word and did not deny His name, even when pressured. With commendation, Jesus assures them He has placed an open door before them that no one can shut. They recognised that fruitfulness flows from abiding in Christ, not from self-effort, and with that knowledge, they were fulfilling their purpose as a church.
Jesus' praise of Philadelphia starkly contrasts the other churches that tolerated sin or grew spiritually lax. Believers in Philadelphia followed the Acts 1:8 model, receiving power from the Holy Spirit, leading to effective evangelistic ministry. When the Lord commented that they had little strength, it was meant as a commendation, not an insult. They knew they couldn't build and maintain a church in their own power; thus, they trusted in the divine strength of the Lord.
Consequently, Jesus promises to vindicate them before their oppressors. At His coming, every knee will bow, and enemies will acknowledge God's love for the faithful. Until then, Philadelphia can expect protection from testing they cannot bear as they walk through the open door.
This encouraging letter beckons us to emulate Philadelphia's faithful reliance on the Spirit's power to spread the gospel through open doors. We do not need to be mighty, only yielded. We don't need all the answers, only to trust the One who does. Christ holds the keys! When we surrender control to Him, He enables fruitfulness beyond our capabilities.
Rather than trying to force open doors in our timing and strength, let's humbly obey where God currently has us planted. As we remain faithful with little, He will entrust us with more. Our role is to walk through the doors He unlocks, not batter them down ourselves.
Listen to what the Spirit says to the churches. May we deny our tendency toward self-reliance and rest in Christ's all-sufficiency. As we cling to Him, He will bear much fruit through these little hands.