There are some things you can learn in a classroom. And then there are some things ministry can only teach you by living through them.
When I first stepped into pastoral ministry, I had vision. I had passion. I loved Jesus, loved people, and genuinely wanted to build a healthy church that would make a difference. But there was also a lot I didn’t know.
I didn’t fully understand the weight of leadership. I didn’t know how complicated leading people could become. I didn’t realize how quickly ministry could consume my calendar, how important the right relationships would be, or how much God would need to work in me while I was trying to lead everyone else.
Looking back now, there are some things I wish I could sit down and tell the younger version of myself. I can’t go back and have that conversation. But maybe I can have it with another pastor who’s just getting started.
Here are five things I wish I knew when I started pastoring.
1. Become Traditional Before Trying to Become Transformational
When you’re a new leader, you see things you want to change. At least I did. You see systems that could work better, traditions that don’t make sense to you, ministries that need adjusting, and opportunities everyone else seems to be missing. And sometimes you’re right.
But I’ve learned that just because something needs to change doesn’t mean it needs to change today.
I used to love watching Fixer Upper with Chip and Joanna Gaines. If you've watched much of Chip, you know how much he loves demo day. There's something satisfying about it. You've got a vision for what this old space could become, so you start tearing out cabinets, ripping up flooring, knocking down walls, and clearing away everything standing between what the house is and what you believe it could be.
Until you come to a load-bearing wall. Suddenly, you can't just swing the sledgehammer.
That wall may not fit the new vision. It may be exactly where you want the open-concept kitchen to go. It may eventually need to change. But it's carrying weight you couldn't see. If you tear it out without first understanding what it's supporting, you can damage the very house you're trying to improve.
The vision isn't necessarily wrong. The renovation isn't impossible. It just has to happen differently.
I've learned churches have load-bearing walls too. Every church has a story that started before its current pastor arrived. There are traditions, relationships, people, ministries, and ways of doing things that may not make sense to you when you first arrive. Some of them probably do need to change. But before you start swinging the leadership sledgehammer, you need to understand what they're carrying.
There are victories you weren't there to celebrate, wounds you didn't experience, sacrifices you didn't make, and relationships you don't completely understand.
Something that looks outdated or ineffective to you might represent years of sacrifice to someone else.
That's why I wish I had understood earlier that one of the first responsibilities of leadership isn't always changing the culture. Instead, you first need to learn the culture.
Listen. Ask questions. Learn the stories. Honor what God did before you arrived.
Paul did something interesting when he entered Athens in Acts 17. Before he addressed their culture, he observed it. He paid attention. He learned what mattered to the people he was trying to reach (Acts 17:16-23). There's wisdom there for pastors.
Before you start renovating, figure out which walls are load-bearing.
When you discover one, it doesn't mean you abandon the vision. It means you figure out how to accomplish the vision while honoring what has been carrying the weight.
Sometimes you reinforce it.
Sometimes you redirect the weight.
Sometimes, eventually, you replace it.
But you don't blindly demolish it.
I've learned that transformation usually moves much further when trust gets there first.
Before you change what people built, take time to understand what it has meant to them.
2. The Importance of Relationships With Key Influencers
Every church has two organizational charts. There’s the one on paper. And there’s the one that actually exists.
It didn’t take me long to learn that some of the most influential people in a church don’t necessarily have titles. They’re the people others trust. They know the history. They’ve been through difficult seasons. They’ve served faithfully. People listen when they speak.
Early in ministry, it’s easy to look primarily for people who can help you accomplish the vision. I’ve learned to look first for people I can pastor.
Sit with them. Listen to their stories. Ask questions about the church. Find out what they’ve celebrated and what they’ve survived. Learn what they’re praying for.
What you're doing is building relational equity. A pastor friend illustrated this idea like keeping change in my pocket.
Every conversation, every hospital visit, every time you show up when it matters, every time you listen instead of immediately trying to lead, every promise you keep, every moment you honor someone's history—you are putting a little more change in your pocket.
You're building trust. Then eventually there comes a moment when you need to cast vision, make a difficult decision, or lead the church through change. That usually requires you to spend some of that relational equity.
The problem is that new leaders sometimes try to make withdrawals from relationships they haven't made deposits into yet.
You can't spend change you haven't put in your pocket.
That's especially important with key influencers. When I've taken the time to build genuine relationships with people who already have the trust of others, I'm not simply gaining access to an influential person. I'm building a relationship through which vision can eventually travel.
I can sit across the table and say: "Here's what I'm seeing. Here's where I believe God is leading us. Here's why I think this matters. What do you see?"
Now they're not just hearing an announcement from the pastor. They're part of the conversation. And when they understand the vision, believe in it, and trust the person leading it, something powerful happens: The vision begins moving through relationships that already carry influence.
I'm not using people to manipulate the congregation. That's not leadership, and that's not pastoring. I'm honoring the reality that trust already exists in the room before I ever arrive.
Nehemiah didn’t arrive in Jerusalem and immediately start barking orders. He spent time observing what was happening before gathering people around the mission (Nehemiah 2:11-18).
I’ve learned that vision alone doesn’t move people. In fact, people usually follow vision at the speed of trust.
If I could go back, I’d worry a little less about proving I could lead and spend even more time building the relationships that would eventually allow me to lead.
Eventually leadership will require change. And when that day comes, I'd rather have pockets full of relational equity than a head full of vision and nobody who trusts me enough to follow it.
3. There's a Cost to Ministry. Make Sure You Use the Right Currency.
Ministry costs something. I don't think we should pretend otherwise.
There will be long days. Late nights. Inconvenient phone calls. Difficult conversations. Sundays when you're exhausted but still have to preach. Seasons when the needs are greater and you have to pour out more than usual.
Jesus never presented following Him as a life without sacrifice. He told His disciples to take up their cross and follow Him (Luke 9:23).
There is a cost to ministry.
But here's what I've learned: Make sure you're paying that cost with the right currency.
If I'm not careful, I'll pay for ministry with things God never asked me to put on the table.
- I'll pay for it with my marriage.
- I'll pay for it with my kids.
- I'll pay for it with my health.
- I'll pay for it with my integrity.
- I'll pay for it with my own relationship with Jesus.
I can convince myself that all of it is justified because “I'm doing it for the church.” I've learned that's a dangerous way to lead.
There have been seasons when I've had to give ministry more. That's part of the calling. There are emergencies, difficult seasons, launches, funerals, crises, and moments when shepherding people simply costs you something.
Sacrifice isn't the problem. The currency can be.
My family isn't supposed to continually finance my ministry.
My health isn't an unlimited account I can keep withdrawing from.
My integrity isn't available for purchase.
My relationship with Jesus cannot become something I spend in order to build something for Jesus.
That last one may be the easiest for pastors to miss. It's possible to spend hours studying Scripture and slowly stop spending time with Jesus. I can read the Bible looking for Sunday's sermon without allowing the Bible to search me. I can pray publicly while my private prayer life is drying up. I can become incredibly busy doing things for God while becoming increasingly distant from God.
Find yourself in Jesus before you lose yourself in ministry.
Jesus' words to Martha have challenged me here. She was busy serving Jesus, but Mary had chosen to sit at His feet (Luke 10:38-42). The work mattered. But His presence mattered more.
I've had to learn that ministry for Jesus can never replace intimacy with Jesus.
The same is true with my family. The church will always have another need. Another meeting. Another crisis. Another event. Another Sunday. My kids, however, won't always be the age they are right now. There are moments I don't get back. That doesn't mean ministry never interrupts dinner or requires sacrifice from our family. That's an unrealistic picture of pastoral life. It means I refuse to make constant family sacrifice the business model for successful ministry.
And that's why priorities matter.
I have to protect time with Jesus. Protect my marriage. Be present with my family.
Rest. Take care of myself.
And then be willing to work incredibly hard with what remains. I can build something impressive publicly while becoming depleted privately. And eventually the bill comes due.
If I could talk to the younger version of myself, I wouldn't tell him: "Don't work so hard."
I'd tell him: Work hard. Sacrifice. Pour yourself out. Give God everything you've got. Just make sure you're using the right currency.
The goal isn't simply to build a ministry that survives.
It's to still love Jesus, love your family, and have something left in you when you get to the other side of what you're building.
4. I Need Other Pastors
Nobody really prepares you for how lonely pastoral leadership can become. You can spend an entire Sunday surrounded by people and still feel alone.
There are things you can’t process with your congregation. There are things you shouldn’t put on your staff. And your spouse shouldn’t have to carry every burden that comes with your calling.
I’ve learned something I wish I had understood much earlier: Pastors need pastors too.
I need people I don’t have to impress. People I can call after an incredible Sunday and celebrate with. And people I can call after a terrible Sunday and say, “Man, I don’t know what I’m doing.”
People I can pray with. Vent to. Laugh with. Learn from. People who know me as Rob before they know me as Pastor Rob.
Ecclesiastes 4:9-10 says two are better than one because when one falls, the other can help him back up. Moses had Aaron and Hur when his arms became too heavy to hold up himself (Exodus 17:12). I’ve learned not to wait until my arms are tired to start looking for people willing to help hold them up.
Isolation makes ministry heavier than God intended it to be.
Find your people. When you find them, invest in those relationships.
5. I Don’t Have to Do Everything
When you’re passionate about the church, you see possibilities everywhere.
- We could start this.
- We could change that.
- We could add another ministry.
- We could host another event.
- We could improve this system.
Before long, you can have a church that’s doing a lot without necessarily knowing what it’s trying to accomplish. I’ve learned that activity isn’t the same thing as effectiveness.
I don’t need our church to do everything. I need us to clearly understand what God has called us to do. Who are we called to reach? What kind of disciples are we trying to develop? What does our community need? What has God uniquely placed in our hands? What are the few things we need to do exceptionally well?
Habakkuk 2:2 tells us to write the vision and make it plain. I’ve learned that before I can make vision plain, I have to see it clearly myself.
That requires prayer. Listening. Observing. Learning. And sometimes saying no to good opportunities because they don’t move us toward the assignment God has given us.
You don’t always need a bigger menu. Sometimes you just need a clearer mission. You can’t lead people everywhere. You have to know where you’re going.
I’m Still Learning
Here’s maybe the biggest thing I wish I understood when I started: I was one of the things God was building.
I thought so much about building the church.
- Building teams.
- Building ministries.
- Building systems.
- Building culture.
- Building people.
And God was doing something in me the entire time. He still is.
I’ve made mistakes. I’ve made decisions I’d handle differently today. I’ve preached sermons I’m glad aren’t available online anymore. I’ve learned things about leadership, people, ministry, and myself that I couldn’t have learned from a book. And I’m still learning.
That’s really the heart behind Project Pastor.
I don’t have everything figured out. I’m not writing as someone who has arrived. I’m simply a pastor who’s been down some roads another pastor may just now be starting down.
And if something I’ve learned can help another pastor avoid a pothole, stay healthy, lead better, or keep going a little longer, then it’s worth sharing.
So if you’re early in ministry, here’s what I’d tell you:
- Slow down enough to learn.
- Build trust before demanding change.
- Protect what matters most.
- Find people who can help carry the weight.
- Get clear about what God has actually called you to do.
- And give yourself permission to keep growing.
Your goal isn’t to have an impressive first year. It’s not even to build an impressive church. It’s to be faithful to Jesus and the people He’s entrusted to you for the long haul.
Start well. Stay healthy. Finish well.
