Reading Time: 2 minutes

Michael Phelps stands 6 feet, 4 inches tall.

Simone Biles stands 4 feet, 8 inches tall.

If you’re decent at math, you’ve already figured out that there is almost a two-foot difference between them, but that doesn’t tell the whole story, even though that’s the part of the story that most people would notice first.

There may be a difference in their size, but there’s a similarity in their health.

Sure, Phelps is tall and Biles is, ummm, less tall, but both of them are world-class athletes who spent considerable time at the pinnacle of their respective careers, and between them, they have 30 gold medals (23 for the swimmer and 7 for the gymnast).

So to make a snap judgement about them based on their size would be premature and, more than likely, inaccurate. The same could be said for linemen in the NFL who, at first glance, look like men who just like to sit around and eat donuts. But if you made that assumption on a football field, you’d get hurt when all that weight ran through you at top speed. They may be big, but they can move!

We even have expressions to remind us of this truth:

“Don’t judge a book by its cover.”

“Looks can be deceiving.”

“All that glitters isn’t gold.”

The Bible has a saying, too. “Man looks on the outside, but the Lord looks at the heart.” You can read that along with the rest of the story in 1 Samuel 16:7.

I could write a lot about the inside versus the outside, and how much time and money we spend trying to look better without putting as much effort into trying to be better, but I’ll save that for 2025. The purpose of this post is simply to encourage other pastors who feel like Simone Biles in a Michael Phelps world.

For too long, the church world has judged the churches in that world by their size, but I see the tide shifting in the coming years. I see a church culture that finally figures out a metric for judging a church’s health, more than a church’s wealth or size. I see a culture where leaders are asked to headline seminars and conferences based on their faithfulness more than just their fruitfulness.

As I look ahead to a new year, I look ahead with my heart clinging to a prophetic promise given to God’s people in Psalm 126:1, and I am asking the Lord to do it again in our day.

“When the Lord restored the fortunes of Zion, we were like those who dreamed.”

In the Hebrew, the word for “dreamed” can also mean “restored to health.” May 2025 be a year when the church in America and around the globe is restored to health, and once again applauds the things that lead to it.

As Simone Biles and Michael Phelps can attest, size isn’t one of them.

Reading Time: 3 minutes

I’m starting this blog post standing in the terminal of the Orlando-Sanford International Airport as I wait to board the flight that will take me back home.

Back to the city I love.

To the church I love.

To the people I love

As it’s a late flight, I’ll probably end this post sometime later in that place, more than likely holding a freshly brewed cup of coffee sitting at my own desk in my own house.

Bella will be curled up in her dog bed on the floor next to me and I … will … breathe and reflect on what God deposited in me over the last two and a half days at my first Exponential Conference.

But the number one thing I’m taking away from my time with 5,500 passionate church leaders and followers of Jesus is that there is more. Every time I come to a gathering like this, I sense it: that unrelenting burden for everything that God has for me, the church I lead, and the city I love.

And yet, at the same time that I that I’m trying to swallow that lump in my throat that brings tears to my eyes, I can’t help but feel completely content in what God has already given me.

It’s a wild place to be and I think it’s the place we were made for. Life and love seem to happen in the middle of where we are and where we aren’t. Of what we did and what we’ll do. Of who we are and who we’re becoming.

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It’s hard to be in the middle. I felt that difficulty standing in the middle of the crowd singing at the top of our lungs to the closing song and knowing that God was pleased with me where I was and yet pulling me to where I wasn’t. Not necessarily geographically (we’re not going anywhere) as much as relationally. Wanting to lead a movement that reflects its city means never being done until that happens. It means that a lot of my time as a leader of an amazing family of Jesus followers is spent in the middle of wanting more and needing less.

I am 100% satisfied in Jesus and 100% stirred by Jesus. I feel content and discontent. Somewhat relaxed but never quite comfortable.

As if I needed any reminders about how difficult the middle can be, God allowed me to sit in the middle seat on the return flight (thankfully between 2 great people, but still). Then He used a broken fuel pump that caused us to sit in the plane almost twice as long as expected to teach me that He’ll keep me in the middle as long as it takes to finish the work.

And then, when we finally took off (in the same plane that 30 minutes earlier had a broken fuel pump – now that’ll grow your faith!), God met me in the middle and taught me something that I bet you need to know, too.

Right there on Allegiant Flight 2138 in Row 24 and smack dab in the middle of seat A and seat C, He told me, “You may be in the middle, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t on the move.”

[Tweet “You may be in the middle, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t on the move.”]

Sure the middle is uncomfortable and hard and frustrating and cramped. It’s all of that and more. But it isn’t stuck.

God moves us while we’re in the middle, and that’s something we never have to wrestle with.

Reading Time: 3 minutes

Every Sunday our church has a 30-minute playlist that runs at 7:30 am so people can worship and pray in preparation for the services that happen later in the morning. This past Sunday, I had three words resonating in my spirit the entire time:

“Religion is easier.”

Now, religion can mean a lot of different things to a lot of different people, so let’s define what I mean when I use the word “religion” before we go any further. Merriam-Webster’s definition is “the service and worship of God or the supernatural” and I think most of us would agree that’s not a bad thing. But what I mean when I use the word is what many have referred to when they say that Christianity isn’t a religion as much as it’s a relationship.

That type of religion is often cold, rigid, lifeless, predictable. It’s the predictable part that struck me when I heard those three words: religion is easier.

Relationships are anything but predictable and easy, right? They’re wild and messy, full of unexpected turns and surprises. They’re up and then they’re down, cold and then hot. They can be passionate. They can be passionless. Rewarding. Frustrating.

In other words, anything but easy.

And that’s one of the reasons why so many – perhaps even you – actually end up choosing religion over Jesus. Religion allows us to call the shots. We know what to expect in church, at work, in school. We’re in control, and if we’re really honest, we like that. It’s comfortable. Predictable. Easier.

Religion is easier. But when Jesus shows up, three words get replaced with three more, and they can set off a shockwave that rattles every corner of our lives:

Jesus is Lord.

Those three words change everything. What we controlled, we control no longer. Suddenly Jesus calls the shots, shows up unannounced, and calls us to places and people that are quite a bit out of our comfort zone.

[Tweet “Jesus reaches His hand toward us and invites us into a relationship that is more adventure than composure.”]

Jesus reaches His hand toward us and invites us into a relationship that is more adventure than composure. He says follow me, trust me, abide with me, love with me, die for me, live for me. In short, He invites us into a relationship in which He leads, and that is hard. And as we struggle to wrap our brains around why following Jesus actually seems harder than we thought it would be, what was once familiar comes calling and we’re tempted to go back to what was predictable and controlled.

But while religion may be easier, it isn’t able to save. It can only offer a mask to cover up the mess instead of a cross to clean up the mess. It offers plastic-covered furniture instead of lived-in furniture. Control instead of trust. Stale bread instead of the Bread of Life.

Sure, religion seems like a safe choice, but when did safe ever offer any of us what we really wanted? Safe people would never marry, change jobs, have kids, move to new towns, try new things because every one of those things can lead us away from the very control that religion offers.

But not Jesus! When Jesus is Lord, He leads us into things that seem risky and messy, and as anyone knows who has ever seen a baby brought into the world, life is born in messy ways. So choose the mess. Choose the One who brings a message of hope and life and relationship. Even when it’s messy.

Why choose Jesus? Because the message is greater than the mess.