Navigating the Seasons of Life: 10 Guideposts for the Journey

The mornings are a bit cooler, the days are a little shorter, and the leaves are undergoing a slight change of color. All these indicate we are experiencing a change of seasons.

Arthur Rubenstein observed, “The seasons are what a symphony ought to be: four perfect movements in harmony with each other.”

The writer of Ecclesiastes reminds us that life moves in rhythms and cycles, much like the seasons of the year. “For everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven.” (3:1) There are times of planting and times of harvest, seasons of joy and seasons of grief, moments of building and moments of letting go.

The wisdom of this ancient passage isn’t just poetic; it’s profoundly practical. It reminds us that life is not static. Just when we think we’ve figured out the season we’re in, life shifts again. As the philosopher Heraclitus once said, “The only constant in life is change.”

Learning to navigate these changes with faith and perspective may be one of the most important spiritual disciplines of all.

1. Life has many seasons—and each one has value.

Just as winter, spring, summer, and fall each have their beauty, so do the seasons of life. The joys of youth, the responsibilities of adulthood, and the wisdom of later years all carry purpose.

In the early 20th century, author L.M. Montgomery wrote in Anne of Green Gables, “I’m so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers.” She wasn’t just talking about weather—she was celebrating change itself.

Each season of life, whether vibrant or quiet, gives us new ways to experience grace and growth.

2. Change is inevitable—growth is optional.

We can’t control when the seasons of life change, but we can control how we respond. Some resist every shift; others adapt and grow stronger through it.

When the Boll Weevil infestation devastated cotton crops in Alabama in the early 1900s, farmers could have given up. Instead, they adapted—planting peanuts and diversifying their farms. The town of Enterprise, Alabama even erected a monument to the boll weevil, calling it “the herald of prosperity.”

Change is often uncomfortable, but when we face it with courage and creativity, it becomes the soil for new growth. William Arthur Ward surmised, “The pessimist complains about the wind; the optimist expects it to change; the realist adjusts the sails.”

3. There’s a time to hold on and a time to let go.

Ecclesiastes 3:6 says there is “a time to keep and a time to throw away.” That may be one of life’s most challenging lessons.

Sometimes faith calls us to persevere. Other times, wisdom calls us to release. Letting go of resentment, of unrealistic expectations, of past hurts all create space for new beginnings.

Insightful counselors call this “decluttering the soul.” When we release what weighs us down, we find new freedom to move forward.

4. Every season has the potential to be a blessing or a burden, and sometimes both.

Even the most joyful seasons carry challenges, and even the most painful seasons can reveal hidden blessings.

When Helen Keller lost her sight and hearing at a young age, she faced unimaginable obstacles. Yet through her teacher Anne Sullivan’s perseverance, she learned to communicate and became a global voice for hope. Keller later reflected, “Although the world is full of suffering, it is also full of the overcoming of it.”

Our seasons of struggle can shape us in ways comfort never could.

5. We are not defined by the season we are currently experiencing.

If you’re in a season of loss, don’t assume it will last forever. If you’re in a season of blessing, don’t take it for granted. Seasons pass, but identity rooted in God’s love endures.

The prophet Isaiah spoke of this divine constancy: “The grass withers, the flower fades, but the word of our God will stand forever.” (Isaiah 40:8)

Whatever your current chapter, remember that your circumstances do not define your worth. Your worth is instilled in you by your Creator.

6. God Is present with us always and helps us navigated every season.

The writer of Ecclesiastes does not suggest that God only works in the pleasant seasons. God is present in the times of mourning and in the times of dancing, in the tearing down and in the building up.

Corrie ten Boom, who survived the horrors of a Nazi concentration camp, once said, “There is no pit so deep that God’s love is not deeper still.” Even in seasons of suffering, the presence of God remains our steadying force.

Bengali poet Rabindranath Tagore reminds us, “Faith is the bird that feels the light when the dawn is still dark.”

7. Seasons of waiting are not wasted time.

Waiting seasons can feel like winter—quiet, still, and unproductive. But just as winter prepares the soil for spring, God often uses our waiting to strengthen us for what’s next.

When Nelson Mandela was imprisoned for 27 years, he could have let bitterness consume him. Instead, he used that season of confinement to cultivate wisdom and patience. When he emerged, he led South Africa toward reconciliation rather than revenge.

Seasons of waiting may slow us down, but they also deepen our character.

8. The season you are in will not last forever.

Every chapter has its closing paragraph. If you’re in a difficult season, take heart—it won’t last forever.

Maya Angelou penned, “Every storm runs out of rain.” And when the storm does pass, you’ll often find that your roots grew deeper while the rain fell.

Likewise, when you’re in a joyful season, savor it. Celebrate it. Write it down. Because the seasons are continually changing.

9. Gratitude Is the key to navigating every season.

Gratitude is what turns survival into peace. Whether life feels easy or hard, gratitude grounds us in God’s goodness.

Psychologists have shown that people who practice daily gratitude experience greater joy and lower stress. Long before modern studies proved it, scripture taught us to “Give thanks in all circumstances.” (1 Thessalonians 5:18)

10. Embrace the journey, not just the destination.

In every stage of life, God is shaping us through beginnings and endings, sunshine and rain.

When C.S. Lewis lost his wife, Joy, he wrote, “The pain I feel now is the happiness I had before. That’s the deal.” He had learned that love and loss are part of the same sacred story.

So be careful not to rush through the seasons. Don’t resent the winters or idolize the summers. Embrace the full journey, trusting that God is at work in every one of them.

Life, like nature, moves through cycles—birth and death, gain and loss, laughter and tears. You may not choose the season you’re in, but you can choose how to live in it.

As you navigate your current chapter, remember the message behind the poetry of Ecclesiastes: Every season can clarify meaning, cultivate faith, and convey beauty—if we’ll slow down long enough to notice.

You do not travel this journey alone. God, who governs the seasons of the earth, will guide you through the changing seasons of life.

If I Should Die Before I Wake: 10 Perspectives on Death as I Grow Older

Most of us learned the bedtime prayer long before we understood its meaning:

“Now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray the Lord my soul to keep.
If I should die before I wake,
I pray the Lord my soul to take.”

As children, we prayed those words without fear. As adults, they sound a little more sobering. That simple prayer confronts a reality we spend much of our lives trying to avoid — the fact that life is fragile, and death is certain.

The anonymous writer of Hebrews put it bluntly: “Just as people are destined to die once, and after that to face judgment” (Hebrews 9:27).

Facing our mortality is not morbid; it’s clarifying. As the philosopher Socrates once said, “The unexamined life is not worth living.” Facing death honestly helps us live more intentionally, more gratefully, and more faithfully.

Here are 10 reflections on mortality to help us live with hope and die with peace.

1. Life is a gift that should never be taken for granted. James 4:14 reminds us that life is “a vapor that appears for a little while and then vanishes.” Every sunrise is a gift, every breath a miracle.

Holocaust survivor Viktor Frankl observed that the difference between those who survived the concentration camps and those who didn’t was often the ability to find meaning, even in suffering. “When we are no longer able to change a situation,” he wrote, “we are challenged to change ourselves.”

Gratitude transforms survival into living. Don’t take the ordinary for granted; it’s where the extraordinary hides.

2. Death Is a certainty we should not fear. Emily Dickinson penned, “Because I could not stop for Death — He kindly stopped for me.” Her calm acceptance captures a truth many of us resist: death is inevitable, but not necessarily tragic.

The older I get, the less I fear death itself, and yet the more I want to avoid a prolonged dying process. While we don’t get to choose the way we depart this world, I often tell my wife, “If I don’t wake up tomorrow morning, I’ve had a good life. And you can say, ‘Thank you, Lord. That’s the way he wanted to go.’”

For followers of Christ, death is not the end of the story. As Paul wrote, “To live is Christ and to die is gain” (Philippians 1:21). Our hope isn’t in escaping death, but in trusting the One who conquered it.

3. The ultimate mortality rate Is 100%. Every generation learns the same lesson: no one gets out of this life alive. But that doesn’t have to sound grim. It can actually sharpen our focus.

Benjamin Franklin once quipped, “In this world nothing can be said to be certain, except death and taxes.” But even Franklin understood that certainty can bring clarity. Living with the end in mind helps us prioritize what truly matters.

4. You write your own eulogy each day that you live. Every decision, every conversation, every act of kindness or cruelty writes another line in your story. The question is — what will your story say?

The tombstone’s “dash” between birth and death represents your life. What fills that dash? Maya Angelou wrote, “People will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but they will never forget how you made them feel.”

When you reach the end of your days, may people remember that your words healed, your presence mattered, and your faith endured.

5. Focus on things of eternal significance. Buford Green, a wise friend of mine, once said, “I’ve never seen a hearse pulling a U-Haul.” You can’t take it with you. But you can leave something behind—faith, love, integrity, and kindness.

Jesus taught us not to store up treasures on earth, but in heaven. Eternal investments look like compassion for the poor, forgiveness for the wounded, and service for the overlooked. The things that outlive us are usually the things we did for others.

6. The best way to prepare for death is to live every day to the maximum. The Latin phrase carpe diem—“seize the day”—was first written by the poet Horace more than 2,000 years ago. It still holds wisdom.

In our era of constant distraction, we can spend hours scrolling, comparing, and worrying. But as author Annie Dillard observed, “How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives.”

Live fully present. Watch a sunrise. Call your mother. Forgive someone. Laugh often. Reggie McNeal once said, “The enemy of your soul whispers fear and worry all the time, and if you listen to that roar, you’ll never hear the Spirit speak.” Tune out the noise and tune in to the sacred.

7. Prepare for death spiritually and logistically. As Jesus said, “Love the Lord with all your heart, mind, and soul, and love your neighbor as your self.” Confess your sins regularly and receive God’s gift of forgiveness. But also make the practical plans. Writing a will, organizing your affairs, or discussing end-of-life wishes with family members isn’t pessimism—it’s love in practical form.

Years ago, a parishioner told me, “I don’t want my kids to have to guess about my funeral. I want them to be free to grieve, not to argue.” Her preparation became one of the greatest gifts she left beh

8. Live with a sense of mission and purpose. In other words, serve God by serving others, especially the disadvantaged and underserved. And live so that there’s no doubt about what you believe or who you follow. Dietrich Bonhoeffer, who faced death in a Nazi prison, said before his execution, “This is the end—for me, the beginning of life.”

Build your life around Christ’s teachings and compassion. The best way to prepare to die is to live each day as a gift to God and to others

9. Wake up before you die. The late preacher Tony Campolo told of a Buddhist monk who once said, “You Christians teach your children to pray all wrong. You teach them to say, ‘If I should die before I wake.’ It would be better if you taught them to pray, ‘If I should wake before I die.’”

Campolo explained that many people go through life half-awake—distracted, numb, and unaware of the sacred all around them. The tragedy isn’t dying before you wake up—it’s never waking up while you’re alive.

Take time to wake up to God’s love, to beauty, to laughter, to grace.

10. Let death catch you from behind, living generously and faithfully. You can’t control the timing of your death, but you can control the quality of your life. Live so that death finds you authentic in faith, generous in spirit, and awake to God’s presence.

Don’t sit around dreading death, or awaiting its arrival drearily. Whatever your limitations, live with a grateful heart and a positive spirit.

When I was a teenager, I once spent the night in a casket. A friend invited me to go camping behind his house. However, a storm rolled in unexpectedly. His stepfather worked in a funeral home and had shipping caskets in the storage barn. So when the rain began, we moved our campout to the barn and converted two of the shipping containers to beds. It was eerie but unforgettable. I agreed to this arrangement under one condition: That we leave the lids open. 

There will come a day when the casket lid will close on my life. But until then, I want to make every day count. As the writer of Romans reminds us, “Whether we live or die, we belong to the Lord” (Romans 14:8).

Someone once asked, “How do you know if God’s purpose with your life is complete?” The answer is, “If you have breath, God is not finished with you.”

We prayed the old bedtime prayer as children, but maybe, just maybe, we should also pray this prayer as adults:

“If I should die before I wake,
I pray the Lord my soul to take.
But if I should wake before I die,
I pray the Lord to teach me how to live.”

Life is short. Death is certain. As long as we have a pulse, may God give us the grace to be fully alive.

10 Things to Remember When You’re Having a Tough Day

Some days start fine and end hard. Other days seem tough from the first cup of coffee. Whether it’s the loss of a loved one, a financial setback, a work crisis, or just an accumulation of small frustrations, we all have days when our spirits feel heavy and our energy runs low. Those are the moments when we most need perspective, patience, and grace.

Here are 10 things to remember when you’re having a tough day—truths that can anchor your spirit when everything else feels uncertain:

1. This day will not last forever. When life feels like it’s closing in, it helps to remember that tough days don’t last forever. As Psalm 30:5 promises, “Weeping may last through the night, but joy comes with the morning.”

In the middle of a storm, it’s easy to believe the clouds are permanent. But even the longest storm eventually gives way to light. When you’re in a dark season, hold on to hope—it’s the bridge that carries you to the other side.

Albert Camus discovered, “In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer.”

2. You are not alone. When we struggle, isolation often follows. But even when you feel alone, God is near. God hasn’t gone silent; God does however invite us to lean in closer.

Sometimes comfort comes from others, such as a text from a friend, a prayer from a pastor, or a quiet reminder that you matter. Don’t hesitate to reach out. Connection can be holy medicine.

During the early months of the recent pandemic, when many people were struggling in solitude, I remember a church member saying, “I can’t fix everything that’s broken, but I can still pick up the phone.” That one call, that one connection, can change someone’s entire outlook.

3. You don’t have to have it all together all the time. There’s a lot of pressure to appear strong, capable, and composed. But pretending you are fine when you are not is exhausting.

As author Brené Brown reminds us, “Vulnerability is not weakness; it’s our greatest measure of courage.” God never asked us to be flawless—however, God does call us to be faithful. Even the Apostle Paul admitted, “When I am weak, then I am strong” (2 Corinthians 12:10).

4. Take one day at a time, one step at a time, and one issue at a time. When life feels overwhelming, break it down. You don’t have to solve everything today—take the next right step.

Think of marathon runners. They don’t conquer 26 miles all at once. They take it stride by stride, breath by breath. The same is true in life: progress comes through small, steady steps.

Lao Tzu surmised, “The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.”

5. Practice the pause. Even Jesus often withdrew to quiet places to pray (Luke 5:16). If he needed moments of rest and renewal, so do we.

A few deep breaths and a simple prayer, like “Lord, give me peace for this moment,” can steady your soul. Step outside, feel the sunlight, listen to the rhythm of creation. Sometimes that pause is not a break from real life; it’s the moment that helps you remember what’s real.

6. Gratitude changes perspective and clarifies our focus. Gratitude doesn’t erase hardship, but it transforms how we see it. When you start naming blessings, even small ones—a sunrise, a child’s laughter, a quiet cup of coffee—you begin to notice that goodness still surrounds you.

A Harvard study found that people who kept gratitude journals were happier and more resilient. Long before that, Scripture reminded us, “Give thanks in all circumstances” (1 Thessalonians 5:18). Gratitude doesn’t ignore pain—it redeems it.

7. It’s okay to ask for help. You’re not designed to carry everything alone. Seeking help from a counselor, a mentor, or a trusted friend is not weakness but wisdom.

During one of my toughest seasons in ministry, a friend reminded me, “Even shepherds need shepherding.” She was right. Asking for help is not a sign of failure; it’s a step toward healing.

There’s an old African proverb that advises, “If you want to go fast, go alone. If you want to go far, go together.”

8. Remind yourself of what is true, and not just how you feel in the moment.  Feelings are powerful, but they aren’t always accurate. When the noise of fear or disappointment gets loud, anchor yourself in what you know is true: God loves you, your life has purpose, and this struggle will not define you.

A wise therapist told me, “Your emotions are real, but you have to let them know they’re not the boss.” Let faith be the compass that steadies you when feelings fluctuate

9. Rest Is sacred. Fatigue makes small problems look like giants. God built rest into creation not as a luxury, but as a rhythm of grace. Sometimes the most spiritual thing you can do is take a nap, eat something healthy, or get outside.

Even Jesus took time to sleep in the middle of a storm (Mark 4:38). Rest is not giving up—it’s gearing up.

10. God is at work in seen and unseen ways. When life is chaotic, it’s hard to see God’s hand. But faith reminds us that even when we can’t trace God’s plan, we can trust God’s heart.

Romans 8:28 assures us that God works in all things for good—not that all things are good, but that God can bring good out of even the hardest experiences. Like a tapestry, the threads don’t make sense up close, but step back and you see the design.

Back in his day, Charles Spurgeon famously preached, “God is too wise to be mistaken, and too good to be unkind.”

Bad days happen. But they don’t have the final word. Every tough day offers a chance to rediscover grace, lean into faith, and grow in resilience.

So if today feels heavy, hang tough! Your story is not yet complete. And whether you have been bruised by the unfairness of life, stung by the cruelty of others, or wounded by self-inflicted mistakes, you can write a better chapter tomorrow than the one you are living today.

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Marriage and Stuff: 7 Things I Wish We’d Been Told 40 Years Ago

On September 7, 1985, Amanda and I stood in front of the congregation at the Post Oak Springs Baptist Church, exchanged wedding vows, and promised to love, honor, and cherish each other for life. The sanctuary was packed, a garden of ferns filled the choir loft, and the reception consisted of a simple buffet of wedding, nuts, mints, and punch. We were young, hopeful, and ready to face the world together.

Now, 40 years later, we’ve discovered that marriage is the greatest classroom of all. It teaches lessons you never thought you needed, often through life’s pop quizzes you didn’t see coming. Looking back, I sometimes wonder what would have been different if someone had pulled us aside that day and whispered a few of things we were about to learn in the trenches.

Across the years, as I have met with couples for “pre-marriage counseling,” I have shared some of the insights we’ve gleaned from our experiences along the way. Here are a few of those lessons:

1. Love is less about feelings and more about choices. The butterflies fade, the flowers wilt, and the honeymoon ends. But choosing each other every day, especially on the hard days, is what keeps the bond strong.

2. You can’t fix each other. I think every couple thinks they can sand off their spouse’s rough edges. Turns out, each person’s rough edges tend to create a bit of healthy tension that keeps you engaged in the relationship. The truth is, marriage is about helping each other grow, not remodeling each other into your dream spouse.

3. Laughter really is medicine. We’ve learned that a shared laugh can dissolve tension faster than a well-argued point. A good sense of humor is as important as a good budget.

4. You will disappoint each other. Perfection is a myth. Forgiveness is a must. Grace has saved our marriage more times than strategy ever could. So keep making more space for grace.

5. Time is one of your most valuable gifts. Careers, calendars, and commitments will fight for your attention. But nothing nourishes a marriage like time together. Even ordinary moments—a walk, a meal, a quiet evening—become more meaningful when shared.

6. Change is constant. We’re not the same people we were at 21 and 25, and that’s a good thing. Healthy marriages make room for growth, reinvention, and a few gray hairs.

7. Faith anchors you. Storms come—stressful circumstances, health scares, and compounded grief—but faith has been our ballast. As Ecclesiastes reminds us, “A cord of three strands is not quickly broken.”

If I could go back and whisper something to that young couple at the altar, I’d say: “Relax. You won’t have it all figured out. Just keep choosing each other, keep laughing, keep forgiving, and keep leaning on God.”

For your marriage to have durability, you can never put your relationship on cruise control. You will be called on to be focused, faithful, and flexible. Maya Angelou nailed it when she wrote, “Love recognizes no barriers. It jumps hurdles, leaps fences, penetrates walls to arrive at its destination full of hope.” 

Forty years in, our relationship is still growing, not because life has been easy, but because we’ve weathered it together. And if marriage means you have to wade through  “stuff,” as the title suggests, then I’m grateful for every bit of that stuff—because it has shaped us into who we are today.

Here’s to the next chapter of love, laughter, and learning together.

Resounding Gratitude: A Reflection on Psalm 138

Phoebe Birkhimer, a beloved church member and neighbor of ours during our years serving at the First Baptist Church of Williams, was known for her avid and personal note-writing. In 1992 when I had knee surgery, Phoebe baked cookies and sent them to our home as I was recovering. As an expression of gratitude, I sent hand-written notes to all who had provided food and flowers during my recuperation, including Phoebe. A few days later it happened…I received a “thank you” from Phoebe for the “thank you” note I had sent to her. Now that’s a lot of gratitude!

Psalm 138 is a song of praise and gratitude attributed to David. In The Message, “thanks” or “thank you” occurs six times. That’s a lot of gratitude. This resounds as a chorus of appreciation for God’s love, faithfulness, and strength. Then the psalmist proceeds to thank God for what God has done and for what God is going to do.

This psalm is a reminder that our relationship with God should be marked by gratitude and appreciation for God’s character and God’s actions on our behalf.

In seasons of trial or uncertainty, gratitude can be difficult, but it tends to be life-shaping in all kinds of circumstances.  When we shift our focus from our predicaments to God’s faithfulness, our hearts are infused with hope and courage. David’s experience reminds us that even when the path ahead seems daunting, God walks with us, providing the grace and strength we need to confront each challenge.

Take time to lift your voice in praise and gratitude to God. Alice Walker, author of The Color Purple, says, “’Thank you’ is the best prayer that anyone could say. I say that one a lot. Thank you expresses extreme gratitude, humility, understanding.”

A deeper dive…What are some specific things you want to thank God for? How has God shown steadfast love and faithfulness in your life?

Prayer for today… Thank you, O God, for your goodness and faithfulness in my life. I am grateful for your love, mercy, and grace that strengthen me on my journey. Thank you for hearing my prayers, guiding my steps, and providing for my needs. Now cultivate in me a heart of gratitude as I grow to trust you more. Amen.

(Barry Howard is a retired pastor who now serves as a leadership coach and consultant with the Center for Healthy Churches. He and his wife live on Cove Lake in northeast Alabama.)

(A version of this devotional was first published in Reflections Daily Devotional Guide.)


Everyone Loves a Good Mystery

Everyone loves a good mystery. The twists, turns, and the ultimate revelation can be thrilling.

One morning several years ago, I received a call from the popular TV show “Unsolved Mysteries” asking permission to film an episode on our church campus. At first, I thought the call was a hoax, but as I listened to the inquiry, I realized the caller was referring to a mystery involving a member of our community who had disappeared at sea many years ago while serving in the Navy.

Interestingly, when I saw the episode eventually produced by “Unsolved Mysteries,” I noted that the program did not solve the mystery; they only explored the mystery.

In Colossians 1:27, Paul probed a different kind of mystery, one that had been hidden for ages but is now being fleshed out in God’s people: “Christ in you, the hope of glory.” This mystery is not an unsolved riddle but an evolving reality of God’s plan to bring life transformation to all through Christ.

As followers of Jesus, why is our relationship with God a mystery? Perhaps it’s a mystery because the mechanics of how faith brings individuals to life cannot be fully explained. It could be considered a mystery because the work of the Spirit is hidden to the naked eye. Or maybe it’s called a mystery because we are a work in progress, still learning, growing, and maturing, and not yet complete.

In Colossians 2:6-7, Paul urges believers to “walk in him, rooted and built up in him and established in the faith.”We are invited to probe this mystery and live out of the wellspring of our relationship with Jesus each day.

A life rooted and grounded in Christ is not easily shaken. Brenning Manning reminds us, “The more rooted we are in the love of God, the more generously we will live out our faith.”

Take a deeper dive… Where do you sense the mystery of Christ at work in your life? What are some steps we can take to become more rooted and grounded in our faith?

Prayer: We thank you for the incredible mystery that you are at work in us and through us. As we journey through life, may we always be in tune with your Spirit, who is shaping us into your likeness. Root us deeply in your truth and unite us in your love. Amen.

(This first appeared in “Reflections Daily Devotional Guide.)

7 Organizational Pitfalls That Keep Churches Stuck

A veteran airline pilot once told me, “Even the most advanced aircraft won’t go anywhere without regular course corrections.” The same is true of churches. While rooted in timeless truth, churches must constantly assess whether they’re still aligned with their mission or drifting off course.

Too often, congregations settle into familiar rhythms, mistaking comfort for health and routine for faithfulness. Meanwhile, the world outside their walls changes rapidly.

Churches are meant to be living, breathing reflections of the Kingdom of God—places where faith deepens, lives are changed, and the gospel is shared with enthusiasm and positivity. Yet even vibrant churches can get stuck.

Sometimes it’s slow and subtle. Other times, it’s an abrupt leadership conflict, a cultural shift, or simply a loss of momentum. The good news is that getting stuck isn’t the end of the story. In fact, it may be the beginning of renewal if we’re willing to reflect, reimagine, and respond.

Here are seven organizational pitfalls that can quietly derail even the most faithful of congregations—and what to do about them:

1. Prioritizing tradition over mission.

In 1967, the Swiss watch industry controlled over 80% of the global market. But when electronic watches were introduced (most notably by Seiko), the Swiss dismissed them as a passing fad. Within a decade, they had lost their dominance to competitors who embraced innovation.

The church can fall into the same trap when it values tradition over mission. When beloved customs become untouchable, they may obscure rather than illuminate the Good News.

Respect tradition, but regularly ask: “Does this still serve our mission, or just our memories?”

2. Lack of clear decision-making structures.

Churches often run on trust and familiarity—until a crisis hits. Without defined leadership roles and transparent processes, confusion and paralysis set in. Decision-making by consensus sounds inclusive, but in practice it can result in chronic indecision and burnout.

Clarify roles and lines of accountability. Empower leaders to lead and communicate decisions with transparency and grace. Structure doesn’t stifle Spirit. Rather, it provides space and channels through which the Spirit can move.

3. Avoiding conflict instead of addressing it.

A pastor once said, “In some churches, the goal is not peace—it’s the appearance of peace.” Many congregations avoid conflict to preserve harmony, only to find resentment simmering below the surface.

Thomas Crum cautions, “Conflict avoided is conflict multiplied.”

Encourage a culture where tough conversations happen in love. Teach that healthy conflict—done with grace and truth—is not division but discipleship.

4. Failing to adapt to changing realities.

Imagine a church that prints paper maps of their campus to hand out to first-time visitors, only to discover that no one under 40 uses paper maps anymore. They use electronic navigation through their smart device. Whether it’s communication, worship style, or outreach, churches often cling to outdated methods while the needs around them shift dramatically.

Learn to be faithful and flexible. Stay rooted in Christ, but flexible in your strategies. Evaluate regularly. Innovate prayerfully. Be ready to pivot when the moment calls for it.

5. Neglecting leadership development.

It’s been said that Moses may have led the Israelites out of Egypt, but Jethro’s advice (Exodus 18) kept him from burning out. Churches that rely on a few overextended leaders while neglecting to raise up others risk long-term dysfunction. Churches are wise to nurture and cultivate the young leaders who will become the next Joshua, the next Phoebe, the next Barnabas, or the next Timothy.

Identify and invest in emerging leaders. Offer mentoring, training, and real responsibility. A healthy church plans for the next generation before it’s desperate for one.

6. Measuring the wrong things.

Success in the church is not just about attendance and offerings. It’s about lives transformed, relationships deepened, and love lived out in the community.

William Bruce Cameron reminds us, “Not everything that counts can be counted.”

Don’t let the numbers define the narrative. Reorient your scorecard to emphasize missional engagement, spiritual formation, community influence, and kingdom impact

7. Ineffective internal and external communication.

Even vibrant churches can stall when communication breaks down. Internally, assumptions breed confusion. Externally, outdated websites, unclear signage, or inconsistent messaging can send mixed signals.

Good communication is ministry. Prioritize clarity in announcements, press releases, digital presence, and community relationships. Say what matters and say it well.

Churches are not immune to organizational drift. And while the Spirit of God moves in mysterious ways, the systems we build can either support or suppress that movement. By recognizing and addressing these common pitfalls, we free the church to do what it was always meant to do: live out the Gospel boldly, joyfully, and effectively.

Because when a church gets unstuck, the congregation gains traction and begins to move forward, outward, and upward.

(Barry Howard is a retired pastor who now serves as a leadership coach and consultant with the Center for Healthy Churches. He and his wife reside on Cove Lake in northeast Alabama.)

Building Bridges Across the Great Divide

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When construction began on the Golden Gate Bridge in 1933, skeptics said it couldn’t be done. The winds were too fierce. The fog too dense. The span too long. But through grit, innovation, and vision, workers united across trades and backgrounds to connect two shores that had long been separated. Against enormous odds, the bridge was completed in 1937 and still stands today. It is not just as an engineering marvel, but a symbol of what’s possible when people work together to span what divides them.

Our nation needs that kind of bridge-building again, not with steel and cables, but with courage, empathy, and dialogue.

We are living in a time when division feels more visible and more visceral than ever. Political debates become personal battles. Social media threads unravel into shouting matches. Families gather around dinner tables, uncertain about how to talk about the world without tearing each other apart.

We are, in many ways, a nation of silos, more comfortable in our echo chambers than in conversations that challenge us. But if we want to build a better future, we cannot afford to remain divided. The health of our democracy and the well-being of our families and communities depend on our ability to build bridges across the great divide.

A wise person once remarked, “Unity is not the absence of differences but the presence of mutual respect in the midst of them.”

Division is not new, but it has been amplified. Fueled by polarized media, ideological entrenchment, and the fast-paced spread of misinformation and disinformation, we’ve drifted into a mindset that sees those who disagree with us not as fellow citizens but as threats. That’s a dangerous place for any society to be.

As the late Senator John McCain once warned, “We weaken our greatness when we confuse patriotism with tribal rivalries that have sown resentment and hatred and violence across all the corners of the globe.” Civility isn’t cowardice. It’s a form of courage. And dialogue isn’t defeat; it’s a doorway to understanding.

After the Civil War, President Abraham Lincoln worked not only to reunite the nation politically but to heal it relationally. When criticized for showing kindness to Confederate sympathizers, Lincoln replied, “Do I not destroy my enemies when I make them my friends?” His commitment to unity, even amidst deep division, laid a foundation for national healing, one conversation and one gesture at a time

Recently, I read about a local church and a nearby civic group who hosted a community roundtable with people from across the political spectrum. The conversation was slow and awkward at times, but also honest, respectful, and hopeful. Participants left not with total agreement, but with mutual appreciation and a shared desire to keep the conversation going.

That’s where healing begins: not in uniformity, but in humility and respect.

A shared future requires shared values. Most of us, regardless of political leanings, want similar things: safe communities, healthy families, meaningful work, a stable economy, and a sense of dignity and belonging for all people. When we begin with the values we hold in common, we can face what divides us with greater grace.

To live in unity does not require uniformity of thought, perspective, or conviction. It does require that we build on our common values, even when we don’t share the exact same viewpoint. Rick Warren wisely reminds us, “We don’t have to see eye to eye to walk hand in hand.”

The work of bridge-building is not glamorous. It won’t trend on social media. But it is deeply necessary. It happens in quiet conversations, in community service projects, in choosing curiosity over caricature.

If we want to leave a better world for our children and grandchildren, we must begin not by shouting louder, but by listening deeper. We must become savvy builders who construct bridges, cultivate relationships, and collaborate as problem-solvers. And we must dare to believe that across even the widest divide, bridges can still be built.

Let us be those who build them.

(Barry Howard is a retired pastor who now serves as a leadership coach and consultant with the Center for Healthy Churches. He and his wife live on Cove Lake in northeast Alabama.)

Celebrate Religious Liberty by Exercising Your Freedom to Worship

Fire up the grill. Churn the homemade ice cream. Enjoy the fireworks as you hum a little John Philip Sousa. It’s the Fourth of July weekend.

For many, this holiday brings the joy of parades, cookouts, and patriotic music. But amid the celebration, it’s worth remembering that Independence Day is about more than national pride—it’s about preserving and practicing the freedoms that define us. Among the most vital—and perhaps most often overlooked—is religious liberty.

More Than a Constitutional Clause

Religious liberty means we are free to worship without fear of persecution, and equally free from government coercion into religious activity. This freedom protects our right to attend the church of our choice—or no church at all. And it also ensures that faith remains a matter of personal conscience, not political control.

The founders of our nation recognized the harm caused when religion and government become entangled. They established, with care and foresight, a “wall of separation” between church and state—not to marginalize faith, but to guard its integrity.

As Isaac Backus, a prominent Baptist minister during the American Revolution, once wrote:  “When Church and State are separate, the effects are happy… but where they have been confounded together, no tongue nor pen can fully describe the mischiefs that have ensued.”

Worship Is a Freedom Worth Using

While many of us will mark Independence Day with fireworks and festivities, I hope we’ll also celebrate by exercising the freedom that sets us apart: the freedom to worship.

Our Baptist ancestors were instrumental in shaping the First Amendment, not only to protect their own practices but to advocate for the religious freedom of all. They believed—deeply and rightly—that no government should compel belief or interfere with the exercise of faith. That principle still holds today.

“Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof…”  –First Amendment to the U.S. Constitution

But freedom requires stewardship. It’s not just a right to defend, but a gift to live out.

A Global Perspective

As we gather for worship this weekend, may we remember the millions around the world who do so in secret, risking their safety for the sake of their convictions. May their courage remind us never to take our freedom for granted.

In my years as a pastor, I’ve seen how worship shapes lives—it forms character, builds community, and fuels compassion. When we gather to pray, sing, listen, and serve, we become more than attendees—we become active participants in the liberty we’ve been given.

That’s why Hebrews 10:25 challenges us: “Some people have gotten out of the habit of meeting for worship, but we must not do that. We should keep on encouraging each other…” (CEV)

To neglect worship is to risk trivializing the hard-fought right to gather without fear or restriction.

More Than a Celebration—A Commitment

So yes—enjoy your celebration. Wave the flag. Cheer the parade. Light the fireworks. But let’s also take time to reflect. Give thanks for the freedoms we enjoy. Pray for those who are still waiting to worship freely. And most importantly, exercise your freedom to worship—not just this weekend, but consistently, gratefully, and respectfully.

Because if even one group loses their right to worship, religious liberty is in jeopardy for us all.

(Barry Howard is a retired pastor who now serves as a leadership coach and consultant with the Center for Healthy Churches. He and his wife live on Cove Lake in northeast Alabama.)

(This is an updated column from 2016.)

Rediscovering Our Belief in “Liberty and Justice for All” — and Living into It

When I was in the 3rd grade, long before our coal-heated elementary school had an intercom, I remember Mrs. Pirkle, our teacher, would lead us to stand at attention, face the flag, and recite the Pledge of Allegiance. For many Americans, these words roll off the tongue as familiar as the melody of the national anthem: “…with liberty and justice for all.”

We often recite this phrase at school assemblies, civic ceremonies, and public gatherings. Yet in a time when division is deep, and trust is fractured, we must ask ourselves: Do we still believe those words? And more importantly, are we truly living into them?

“Liberty and justice for all” is more than a tagline; it’s a guiding principle. It reflects the highest aspirations of a nation committed to freedom, not just for the privileged, but for every citizen. It is both a pledge we recite and a promise we must embody.

The social contract that binds us together as citizens of these United States is based on the common good of the community, and not the advancement of one individual over another, one class of people over another, or one ethnicity of people over another. Woodrow Wilson contended, “America is not anything if it consists of each of us. It is something only if it consists of all of us.”

To reclaim this belief is to recommit ourselves to a shared vision: a society where opportunity is not determined by zip code, and dignity is not dictated by skin tone, belief system, portfolio size, or political affiliation.

“Liberty and justice for all” is more than a theory; it is an ongoing pursuit. One historical moment that illustrates this pursuit is the courageous action of Fannie Lou Hamer, a Mississippi sharecropper who became a powerful voice in the civil rights movement. After being denied the right to vote and facing brutal opposition, Hamer famously testified before the 1964 Democratic National Convention: “I’m sick and tired of being sick and tired.”

Her words ignited the conscience of a nation. Hamer didn’t ask for special treatment. She asked that the promise of “liberty and justice for all” include her, too. Her story reminds us that liberty requires vigilance, and justice demands action.

Justice is more than a courtroom verdict; it is a spiritual mandate. Amos 5:24 demands, “But let justice roll on like a river, righteousness like a never-failing stream.” Justice isn’t confined to verdicts and legislation. It is manifest in the way we provide food, clothing, housing, education, and healthcare to the “least of these.” Justice insists that all people deserve to be seen, heard, and respected, especially the disadvantaged and the underprivileged.

Likewise, liberty is not simply the absence of ethical and moral restraint, but the presence of opportunity coupled with a call to responsibility. It’s the freedom to speak, worship, and live without fear of marginalization.

Coretta Scott King insisted, “Freedom is never really won. You earn it and win it in every generation.”

“Liberty and justice for all” doesn’t end with us; it starts with us. Rediscovering liberty and justice involve both public policy and personal practice. It begins in our homes, our churches, our voting booths, and our daily conversations. It starts when we examine our assumptions, expand our circles, and speak out when the voices of others are silenced.

It begins when a teacher advocates for underserved students. When a community leader ensures fair access to resources. When a neighbor stands up for the rights of an immigrant neighbor. When a local church hosts a refugee family. When your Bible study group or small group gets involved in prison ministry. Or when your mission group sponsors and supports victims of human trafficking.

It continues when we advocate for fair and just legislation to protect and preserve the rights of all individuals, even those with whom we disagree. And when some of our representatives and leaders from both sides of the aisle suffer from rapid-onset constitutional amnesia, we need to vigorously and vehemently remind them that, since we were children, before we knew the difference between a Democrat or Republican, we pledged to pursue liberty and justice for all.

By the way, in the middle of my 3rd grade year, schools in Alabama were integrated. It was a tense time, especially in the Deep South. However, I cannot imagine a teacher doing a better job of introducing new friends of color into our classroom. Although some of us had been cautioned at home about getting too close to our new friends, once we got to school, Mrs. Pirkle led us all in starting the day with the Pledge of Allegiance.

Across the years, I have preached that we all stand on level ground before the cross, a core belief that determines how I treat others. While buses were being burned and churches were being bombed across my home state, in our little classroom, Mrs. Pirkle helped us understand that we all stand on level ground before the flag, because we are a nation that believes in “liberty and justice for all.”

Independence Day calls us to more than celebration. It calls us to conviction. It calls us to remember that our work is not done when the fireworks fade. We are called to build a future where the final words of our pledge aren’t just recited—they are realized.

And if we are bold enough to believe in “liberty and justice for all,” we must also be brave enough to live and serve in ways that make it true.

(Barry Howard is a retired pastor who currently serves as a leadership coach and consultant with the Center for Healthy Churches. He and his wife live on Cove Lake in northeast Alabama