Reflecting on Planning and Spiritual Accounting Course

This course has allowed me to look at how God works through my past and my present. I have seen that God does not waste any experience. My relationship with God feels even more like a partnership now. I am learning to listen better before I act. At times, I used to think I needed to have every plan perfect. Now I pause and see that God is the one who finishes the work. My relationship with myself has changed because I am more kind to my own soul. I see that I am a person God is forming, not just a worker for a job. My relationships with others are deeper because I am even more present. I recognize that we are all on this journey together.

The spiritual practices were very helpful. Sitting in silence was hard at first. I am used to being busy. I learned that silence is where I hear God most clearly. This has impacted my formation by slowing me down. I am currently in a place where I value peace over productivity. John Franke writes about how missional theology is about God’s mission, not ours. This takes the pressure off me. I do not have to carry the whole world. I just have to be faithful to the small part God gave me.

My mentoring of others has grown.  I now focus more on who the people I am mentoring are becoming. I share my own struggles more often. This creates a safe space for them to be honest. I learned from Michael Goheen that the church has a vocation to be a light. In my mentor meetings with Sherri, we talked about how I cannot lead others where I have not gone myself. If I want those I lead to have healthy souls, I must have a healthy soul too. I am teaching them that accountability is not about being in trouble. It is about being loved enough to stay on the right path.

Sustainable ministry looks different to me now. It looks like a life that has rhythm. It means taking time to rest so I can serve from a full heart. Alan Roxburgh talks about how we are in a time of transition. This means I do not have to have all the answers. I just need to be willing to walk with people. I want to build a network of home churches that focuses on deep roots instead of fast growth. This is more sustainable for me and for the leaders I train. It prevents burnout because we are doing life together in small, honest groups.

I want to make new commitments. I commit to God that I will keep my morning silence. I commit to myself that I will not say yes to things that hurt my family time. I commit to others that I will be a leader who listens first. I want to live out the justice John Perkins speaks about by being present in my local community. I am excited to see how God keeps growing me after this class ends.

He Restores my Soul

 

He Restores My Soul 

(Psalm 23)

One practice I have deepened during this course is the intentional study of Scripture. I have learned to sit quietly in my time with the Lord and read his word with a fresh perspective. Instead of reading to check a box or prepare a sermon, I am reading for the primary purpose of getting to know our Father better. This shift from a task-oriented approach to a relational one has changed how I view my daily rhythms. It is no longer about gathering information but about being present with God.

I chose this practice because I often face the pressure of a busy schedule and the "detrimental system" of constant productivity. As a leader and a student, it is easy to let my own spiritual life become secondary to the needs of others. By slowing down to study, I am strengthened as an agent of God's mission. This practice anchors me. It ensures that when I enter systems of accountability, I am doing so from a place of spiritual fullness rather than exhaustion. It creates a space where I can hear the voice of the Father clearly before I try to lead his people.

This focus on slow, relational study feels different than my previous experiences with hospitality. While hospitality is an outward expression of love, this kind of study is the inward fuel that makes outward love possible. In our class discussions about the church as a sent community, I have realized that we cannot be sent effectively if we do not know the Heart of the one who sends us. Taking my time with the Word has enlivened my thinking by showing me that my maturity is not measured by how much I do, but by how well I know Him.

I painted this the other day after my time of intentional Bible study

and sitting in silence with Him.

Finding the Extraordinary in the Ordinary

I thought about how G.K. Chesterton views the world. He suggests that God is like a child who never gets tired of the same game. While I might get bored of seeing the sun rise every single day, God is perhaps leaning over the edge of heaven saying, "Do it again!" to the sun. This perspective has changed how I look at my time in this master's program.

The rhythm of reading, reflecting, posting, and responding can feel very repetitive. It is easy to see these tasks as just boxes to check. However, God has used this very monotony to build something steady in me. Through the consistent habit of opening books and engaging with my peers, I have developed a disciplined heart. God is not just in the big mountain-top moments. He is in the quiet, daily act of showing up. He has produced in me a spirit that is not easily shaken by change because I have learned to find Him in the routine.

This reminds me of the practice of silence and solitude. At first, sitting in silence feels incredibly uncomfortable. It is the same chair, the same quiet, and the same internal struggle every time. It seems monotonous because nothing "happens." But when I look at the world around me, the way the grass grows or how the seasons slowly turn, I see that God loves slow work. Silence becomes a source of enjoyment because it allows me to admire His creation without the noise of my own voice.

Because of the accountability from my professors and fellow students, I have become a leader who is more grounded. They have held me to a standard of excellence that I could not reach alone. I am now a person who values the community of the church more than the isolation of my own ideas. To the glory of God, I am becoming a shepherd who finds joy in the simple, repetitive work of loving people.

Prayer over Performance

 In my journey as a pastor, I often find myself looking for the next way to grow our church network. One goal I pursued that I now see as not appropriate was the timing of our first official expansion phase for Family Gathering Church. I wanted to start a second home site within the first six months of our launch. This was not a sinful goal. It came from a good heart that wants to see people follow the Great Commission. However, it was not the right time for our small community.

I pursued this goal because I felt a heavy pressure to show progress. I thought that if we were not multiplying fast, then we were not being faithful to the vision. I also think my own desire to be a "Developer" pushed me to move faster than the Spirit was moving. I was focusing on the numbers and the structure rather than the depth of the roots we were planting. We needed more time to sit together and learn how to be a family before we tried to split into two.

The writings of Teresa of Ávila on "Striving to Make Progress" are a great asset for me here. She talks about the soul as a garden and reminds us that we are not the ones who make the rain fall. Her focus on internal stillness helps me see that my goals should come from a place of prayer rather than a place of performance. When I practice the quietness she describes, I can discern if a goal is my own ambition or a true leading from God. Her wisdom teaches me that true progress is often slow and hidden. By practicing this kind of spiritual focus, I can set goals that honor the current season instead of rushing into the next one.

8.1 Accountability Part 2

 Accountability is a necessary part of the Christian walk, if we want to grow. In my own life, I am learning that it is a form of redemptive grace. As I study in my master's program and lead our home church, God is transforming my view of what it means to stay on track. This week, I have felt a shift toward a signature redemptive element of transparency. I used to think a leader must appear perfect to be effective. Now, I see that my own need for Jesus is what helps me assess reality with others.

Assessing reality is the first step of true accountability. It requires us to look at our lives without hiding. For the young families in our church plant, a traditional building often feels like a place where they must wear a mask. This week, my practice of honest reflection helped me see where I was relying on my own strength. When I am honest about my gaps, it strengthens my resolve to pursue godly goals. It also gives others permission to do the same. This creates a culture where we do not just talk about the Great Commission but actually live it out together.

Perseverance is built in these honest moments. I resonate with the idea that accountability is a gift that keeps us from drifting. It is a vital tool that we must use to support one another. As I am being trained and transformed, I believe God will use my journey to help others find their footing. Whether we are starting new home churches or raising young children, we need this structure to stay the course. It is how we move from being individuals to being a true network of disciples. This truth is found in Ecclesiastes 4:9-10: "Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their labor: If either of them falls down, one can help the other up. But pity anyone who falls and has no one to help them up."

Accountability

Accountability

In my journey through ministry, I have seen how accountability can either build a person up or break them down. When I think about the goals God helped me reach, I see the people who walked with me. But I also remember that some people were not actually there to help.

I have experienced accountability that felt more like control. I once had a boss who micromanaged every detail of my work. It was clear that this behavior came from their own insecurities rather than a desire for my growth. In those seasons, leadership used "accountability" as a tool for conformity. It was a top-down style. It felt heavy. There was no room for grace or mistakes. This version of the practice focuses on catching mistakes to feel in control. It creates a culture of fear where individuals hide their struggles to avoid judgment.

Healthy accountability is different. It feels like we are carrying the weight together. It is rooted in deep discipleship and mutual trust. Good accountability does not ask, "What did you do wrong?" It asks, "How is your soul, and how can I help you follow the call of God?" This form of connection is vital for those who feel out of place.

These experiences shape how I lead a home church. I am convinced that accountability must be:

• Relational: It happens best in a living room, not just a formal office.

• Reciprocal: Leaders must be as open about their needs as the people they lead.

• Mission-Focused: It serves the Great Commission, not the ego of a leader.

As I work toward my own goals in my M.Div program, I choose to receive accountability from those who know my heart. This practice is forming me to be a leader who protects others from spiritual or professional abuse. By practicing healthy, grace-filled check-ins, I learn to spot the warning signs of control early. I truly believe we grow the most when people really know us and love us anyway.

Giving up Control

I often think about the image of a home where every room is open for guests, yet one door remains firmly locked. We might tell ourselves that what happens behind that door is private, but eventually, the lack of light from that room begins to affect the atmosphere of the house. When I withhold parts of myself from God, specifically my need for control and my habit of prioritizing everyone’s needs above my own, it eventually leaks out into my life and ministry.

People see it most clearly in my pacing. When I am gripping my "to-do" list too tightly, I become a version of myself that is physically present but mentally miles away. My anxiety becomes a visible weight. Because I often care more about others' needs than my own, I tend to over-function. Others notice this in a hurried tone or a weary spirit. Instead of the peace that should define a life surrendered to Christ, they see someone burdened by the false belief that I have to carry the world on my shoulders. 

This became clearer during my journaling practice this week. I found myself most challenged by the question of why I fear giving my life completely to God. I realized that my reluctance to sit down and write was a revelation. I didn’t want to complete the practice because it required me to stop "doing" for others and start "being" with God. 

The heavy burden of staying in control is a lonely one. When I try to manage every responsibility and person on my own, I am essentially telling those around me, and God, that I don't trust Him to care for me the way I try to care for everyone else. Surrender means believing that God’s grace is for me, too, and that I can put the work down to simply rest in His presence.