So, usually a farmer knows where he’s going to plant his seeds and attempt to raise a crop for harvest. That’s normal practice, right? You work that soil ahead of time, add in fertilizer, see where the land rises and falls so you can be aware of spots that may hold water, where wildlife come to graze…you know, farmer stuff. Seems like this would be a part of how you operate.

Typically ministers know where they are going serve on a given Sunday. They know their people, there’s probably a building, people leading, carrying the load with them (hopefully) and others who rally around the cross with them, all at various stages of maturity, growth and service…you know, churchy stuff. Seems like this would be a part of how you operate. 

That’s unless God decides it’s time for you to do something different. Almost exactly one year ago, I resigned my position as Lead Minister with a legacy church in Kentucky and officially kicked off a new adventure that is still taking shape a year later. Right now, I know what city I’m supposed to serve. I have a general idea what neighborhood or area we’ll be located in (it’s not where we’re currently living) we have a pretty complete idea what our team looks like, but there are still many, many unknowns. It’s definitely a different feeling after 20 years of ‘normal’ Southern, North American ministry.

There’s that old saying, “Life’s a Journey.” And there’s also, “Life is about the journey, because that’s all you have.” Or you could say any number of motivational poster type things that speak to the importance of seeing where you are, appreciating it, and then enjoying the trip to the next spot. And so on and so on, right?

Scripture talks about planting seeds. It’s something we all can understand. The farmer plants the seeds, there’s hope that something will come from it and faith that a harvest will come one day. That’s good stuff. This is how life works. There’s a high degree of uncertainty simply because we can’t see beyond the curtain of today and take a sneak peek of tomorrow. So, we plant those seeds. Some will grow, others will never germinate, some will begin to grow and nothing will come of them. That’s life.

So, for us, we are doing a lot of prep work. We are in the business of speculation, planning for growth before we have the seeds or even know where the field sits. It’s a weird place to be, but that doesn’t mean it’s bad.

Is it hard? Sure it is. I wouldn’t learn anything if it was easy. And so far, I haven’t been handed a lot of ‘easy’ stuff over the course of my ministry career. There are people involved. People who are broken like me. People who have problems, who make mistakes, people who hurt one another, who feel like they know better than everyone else, who plot and gossip and try to get their way. That’s life, right? We all deal with this. And as long as sin is present, we still will. So, I choose not to get hung up on the hard stuff, and instead I focus on what God has for me to do, and I trust that He will lead me into tomorrow when it comes.

And such is church planting. We will get to till soil with prayer. We will get to plant and water. The time is coming. But we are journeying to that day.

So far, we’ve made the big cross-country move. We’ve stepped out in faith physically. Now we are beginning our support raising journey, trusting that God is going to provide for us, so we can accomplish what He has called us to. This is His journey with us. He is the guide, not me. He is in charge, and I gladly submit to His leadership. Soon, He will begin directing us to begin new relationships, open new doors, and allow us to plant seeds in new hearts. This is more of what I am used to and expect. But no journey is constant travel. No journey is a non-stop cascade of motion. Instead, we find seasons of waiting, seasons of trust, seasons of rest.

This is a part of farming, right? This is a part of ministry, right? Yes, yes it is. Everything is a journey. What matters is Who we journey with, and Who we’re trusting along the way. There will be plenty more to share some day, but today, I wait. And I wait with faith for the harvest.