Many in the church like to imagine that technology is just a neutral tool. But as Andy Crouch, author of The Tech-Wise Family, notes, tools are never neutral. They always carry embedded values and assumptions.

Just think of the phone in your pocket. It doesn’t have a will of its own, but it does shape your attention. Your sleep. Your habits. Your emotions. Your theology, even. That’s not neutrality—that’s formation.

When people think of revitalization, they often think of strategy: new plans, new programs, new ideas. But revitalization isn’t first strategic. It’s cultural.

You can have the right systems and still bear little fruit if your church culture is unhealthy. Conversely, a healthy culture can carry a church through seasons when structures are still catching up.

In today’s cultural climate, trust in institutions is at an all-time low—including the church. According to a 2023 Gallup study, only 31% of Americans say they have confidence in organized religion. That means the people in your pews (and outside them) are skeptical of authority, change, and systems.

That’s why relational leadership is essential. As a pastor or church leader, you’re not just managing an organization. You’re shepherding people through grief, disappointment, and, often, disillusionment.

Revitalization can’t be rushed.

“Revitalization” isn’t in the Bible—at least not by name.

Like “Trinity,” the term isn’t found in a concordance, but the theme is threaded through the entire story of Scripture. From Eden to the New Jerusalem, God is in the business of breathing new life into what is weary, broken, or dead.

That’s what Merriam-Webster means when it defines revitalization as “giving new life or vigor to.” The Cambridge Dictionary adds, “to ignite the process of making something grow, develop, or become successful again.” That’s what God has always done with His people.

And it’s what He’s doing in His Church.

When the life cycle of something ends, be it a person or a particular season with a community of faith, a holy tension exists. There is gratitude for what was and grief over what has been lost. Between the hope of what could be and the sobering reality of what now is.

It is far too easy to reduce church health down to the cold, brutal facts or magic bullet solutions. But to make church life about metrics and methods is reductionistic. 

Sometimes it feels like the work we do for the church doesn’t matter.

You stacked chairs again.
You answered one more email.
You stayed late to lock up. You preached a message you felt didn’t stick.

And it’s easy to wonder, Does any of this even count?

But here's the thing about Kingdom work: it often looks small. Unnoticed. Hidden. Like a mustard seed. Like a pinch of yeast in dough.

But that’s exactly how the Kingdom grows.

In Matthew 25, Jesus tells a story about the end of days. The King looks at his people and says, “I was hungry and you gave me something to eat. I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink… I was a stranger and you invited me in.”

There’s a subtle lie that creeps into the church. It sounds like this:

“I’m not needed.”
Or sometimes, “I don’t really have anything to offer.”
Or, “I’m just here to be fed.”

Now don’t get me wrong. There’s nothing wrong with needing to be fed. We all start there. But at some point, spiritual maturity looks like grabbing a towel, not just a plate.

We are not called to be consumers of spiritual goods and services. We are called to be contributors to the Kingdom.

Do you have one of those sweet little wall hangings in your home? The kind that says something like “Serve One Another in Love”? We’ve got one in our upstairs hallway.

It’s a nice touch.

But it’s more than that, though. It reflects the sort of holy living Jesus invites us into.

Lately, I’ve been wondering—do I actually live this? Not just when it’s convenient or someone’s watching, but when it’s costly? When no one sees?

Pastor or Church leader, I realize that you’re in the thick of things right now. You’re looking for a program or curriculum that will fix the problems of your church.

But church health doesn’t start with a program. It doesn’t start with a new hire, a staff restructure, or a better website. It doesn’t start with kicking out the “problem people” of your church.

Everyone who sets foot in your church is looking for community. Some are new, still feeling things out. Others have been attending for years, maybe even decades. But we all share the same deep ache—for belonging, for family, for a place where we are known and loved. Why? Because we were made in the image of God, a perfect community of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

But it becomes easy to disconnect because our experience of church community is often messy and uncomfortable. It’s full of letdowns and unmet expectations. Maybe you started ministry hoping to pastor a community of people that perfectly embodies Acts 2, but instead, you found a group of broken, frustrating, awkward, self-absorbed sinners.

To that I say, “Welcome to life in ministry!”

There’s a story about a young couple on a European tour. Their guide gave them one simple instruction: Stay close so you can hear my voice…

Many church leaders carry an enormous weight when it comes to decision-making. You don’t want to “miss” God’s will. You might even believe there’s a single, perfect blueprint for your church, and if you make the wrong move, you’ve ruined everything. You might even be reaching for a quick fix—a magic bullet—that will drastically change the trajectory of your congregation.

One of the most common questions I’ve heard as a pastor is: What is God’s will for my life?

It’s a question that carries weight. Church leaders, maybe you’ve asked it, too—not just personally, but for your congregation