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.