July 1 marks a milestone I can hardly believe.
This week I celebrate forty years of ministry—thirty-eight years serving churches under appointment and another two years serving on church staffs before I was officially appointed as a pastor.
Whenever someone reaches a milestone like this, there’s an obvious question people tend to ask:
“What have you learned?”
It’s a worthwhile question.
But it isn’t the one that has occupied my heart.
The question I’ve found myself asking is this:
Who have I become?
That feels like the deeper question.
When I Thought Ministry Was About Doing
When I began ministry as a twenty-year-old, I had a fairly clear picture of what a pastor was supposed to do.
Preach.
Teach.
Visit hospitals.
Lead Bible studies.
Officiate weddings and funerals.
Dress the part.
Speak with authority.
Check every box.
For a long time, I tried to do exactly that.
Eventually, I discovered something unsettling.
Checking every box wasn’t bringing me life.
It was exhausting me.
The more perfectly I tried to perform ministry, the further I drifted from the person God had actually created me to be.
Eventually I stepped away for three years.
I tried other careers. I explored different possibilities. I wondered if I had misunderstood my calling altogether.
Looking back, I don’t think I had misunderstood my calling.
I had misunderstood myself.
Recovery Didn’t Mean Leaving Ministry
One of the greatest gifts of that season was therapy.
It helped me recognize something I still continue to learn today:
I’m a recovering perfectionist.
The problem wasn’t ministry.
The problem was believing that faithfulness meant flawless performance.
Slowly I began discovering something different.
Being present with people mattered more than performing perfectly for people.
Relationships mattered more than appearances.
Connection mattered more than accomplishment.
When I eventually returned to ministry, I returned differently.
Not because the work had changed.
Because I had.
Bringing Yourself to What You Do
Today I no longer think ministry is primarily about what pastors do.
It’s about the person doing those things.
There is no other pastor exactly like me.
Just as there is no one exactly like you.
Whether you’re a teacher, engineer, parent, artist, retiree, physician, student, volunteer, or business owner, your unique contribution isn’t simply the work you accomplish.
It’s the person you bring into that work.
When I preach…
When I teach…
When I sit with someone in grief…
When I join youth and adults on an Appalachian Service Project worksite…
When I answer the phone or send an email…
I get to bring myself into those moments.
That, I’ve discovered, is the real vocation.
We Reveal the Divine Differently
One of the deepest convictions that has grown within me over these forty years is this:
Each of us reflects the image of God in a way no one else can.
The divine is infinite.
We are not.
Each of us reveals one beautiful facet of that infinite love.
Not the whole picture.
But an irreplaceable part of it.
The invitation isn’t to become someone else.
It’s to become more fully ourselves.
As we do, the image of God becomes just a little more visible in the world.
Life Reveals Us
I can’t go back and relive those forty years.
And honestly, I wouldn’t want to.
The mistakes mattered.
The disappointments mattered.
The burnout mattered.
The healing mattered.
Life has a way of revealing us.
Sometimes gently.
Sometimes painfully.
But if we allow it, every season becomes an invitation to know ourselves more deeply—and through that deeper knowing, to recognize the presence of God woven through our lives.
The Gift You Bring
As I celebrate forty years of ministry—and the ninetieth episode of the Infinitely Precious Podcast—I find myself returning to one simple truth.
The world doesn’t need another copy of someone else.
It needs you.
Not simply your productivity.
Not your résumé.
Not your accomplishments.
You.
Bring yourself into your work.
Bring yourself into your relationships.
Bring yourself into your conversations.
Bring yourself into your acts of compassion.
You are infinitely precious and unconditionally loved for the gift you already are.
And perhaps the greatest gift you can offer the world is simply becoming more fully yourself.
Infinitely Precious 