How To Grow a Successful Church Plant

A disclaimer: I am no expert in church plants. Or regular plants, for that matter. Although, I hear Miracle Gro works wonders.

I was cleaning up after church one Sunday afternoon when I took notice of the droopy church plant in the basement.

I happen to know first hand that this particular plant is a fighter. It's the only plant in the building that's survived the rigors of church plant lifedom.

The others have long since shriveled up into a mess of crunchy brown leaves, caving in to the constant abuse and torture from the most merciless of parishioners.

Yet this green goddess of botanical goodness has remained. How, I'm not so sure.

First of all, this lovely tropical looking tree/plant/bush/thing is living in a basement. In northern Canada. Where there's only 7 hours of sunlight in the winter. If sunlight can even get in through the window.

Cause it's in a basement. In an old run down church. That's kept at a balmy 62 degrees during the week so there isn't a high gas bill.

Many a time I've scolded snotty nosed kids who've plucked its poor, defenseless leaves right off of its body. I've given them the "This plant is alive. Just like you. Would you like it if I ripped your fingers off????" speech and sent them on their way.

I've pushed, pulled and shoved this plant all over the basement as I shampooed the carpet. I may have even left it in a dark Sunday School room for over a week on accident. No sunlight at all. For a WEEK.

In fact, an outsider may think I'm involved in an elaborate experiment where my primary goal is to find a way to eradicate this plant from existence.

But that's not the case. I mean, I'm a natural at killing plants. My success rate for keeping plants alive is only slightly higher than keeping goldfish alive. And let's just say if I had a similar ERA, I'd be on the same level as Jose Lima pitching for the Detroit Tigers.

So, this plant is surviving in spite of the mistreatment it is receiving.

But I'm pretty sure it's some kind of freak of nature.

So, let's focus on all of the other plants in our church that have passed away in the recent years.

• Soil

The foundation that the plant is rooted in.  Our faith. Our core beliefs. Aidan is growing a green bean plant right now. A few days ago he asked me, "what's this stuff for?" He was talking about the dirt! Now, I know from one too many Sunday School green bean growing projects that you can actually get a bean seed to sprout in just a wet paper towel.  But it's not going to keep flourishing.  You've eventually got to put it in some soil, or it's just going to shrivel up and die.

When you're in leadership in church, you can get pretty desperate for anyone to help shoulder the load.  It's really tempting to take new Christians in your church and throw them under the bus start using them in leadership right away.  But you've got to help them form the foundation... you've got to give them some soil to grow in.

Disciple them. Mentor them. Tell them everything you know about the God you serve.  As they develop their faith and mature into a deeper relationship with Christ, they will be able to withstand a lot more abuse (yay!) and will produce fruit.

•  Water 

Don't make your church go thirsty. Last year I had some pansies on my front porch. Then I had a baby and stopped watering them. Then they died. True story.  I hoped maybe someone else would have watered them for me. But it didn't happen.

When you're working with a church plant (or replant), you're probably going to have a high concentration of new Christians. Chances are they're not going to be able to find water themselves until you teach them. Don't assume that they are getting watered from other sources.

Share the word with them. Lead them to the One who will quench their thirst.  Be aware of those who may need encouraged and redirected. Be on the lookout for those who are hungry for more.  Dig deeper in your studies.  The deeper you dig, the deeper they'll go, too.

• Sunlight

Please excuse the cheesefest that is comparing sunlight to experiencing God.  At least I spared you from dubbing this bullet point "Sonlight." You're welcome.

Seriously, though. Sometimes we get caught up in all the duties of doing church that we leave God completely out of the equation.

Quit trying to be God.  You're pretty much a really low quality replacement for Him at best. That's like sticking a plant in a dark room with a fluorescent light bulb. (I'm assuming that's bad, right? I hope so, or this illustration makes no sense. Please if I'm wrong, don't correct me and just pretend that I'm right.)

All you've got to do is lead the people to God. Just like you place a plant in direct sunlight.  You don't make the sunlight. (thank God.)  You don't decide where it will shine. You align the plants with it. So, take a load off. Your job is easy.

• Warmth

Our lilacs don't bloom here usually until June. The tulips and hyacinths don't pop their heads up and the peonies stay hidden. Why? Because they're not stupid. There's no warmth.

I recently went on a family trip to the zoo.  It was chilly out but it was still a great day.  At one point we went into the conservatory where the tropical plants are kept.  Instantly my glasses fogged up.  We left the dreary, snowy world outside and entered this glorious paradise.  Plants were thriving in this environment that wouldn't last one day outside the protective glass walls.

Your church needs to have warmth.  I'm talking about the attitude of your church.  What does your church's environment feel like?  Is it cold and unwelcoming?  Do people feel out of place? Uncomfortable? Does your church take on the attributes of a club that one has to audition for to enter?

Or are you fostering a warm environment? One that makes people feel welcome, connected, included?

• Keep away from the Kids!

Kids are destructive.  If you don't believe me, feel free to borrow mine for a day. Make sure you lock away any glass or china you'd like to keep.

A couple summers ago, I was working in our garden and Aidan would come barreling through in his underwear and gum boots, leaving a wake of trampled seedlings behind him.  Those plants didn't stand a chance.

At our church the kids love to break off the wide, rubbery leaves of our plant and either wave them around in the air or hit each other with them.  They're constantly picking and picking at the tree and I wonder if one day there will be no more leaves left.

They're like the distractions that constantly pick at you, causing you to lose your focus on what's important.  They're the negative voices that call out to you letting you know that this whole thing is going to end up a big fat failure You don't know what you're doing. You're in way over your head. They're all the little projects and programs that you think are so important, but you're missing out on the basics of what church is supposed to be.

They're the little foxes that are spoiling the vine. What's causing you to lose focus? What's distracting you from what really matters? You'll begin to notice that slowly the church is being transformed from full and lush to bare and anemic. Stay focused!

So, with these tips, a touch of miracle gro, some high grade manure and a few aeration techniques, you'll be well on your way to a healthy church plant. Oh, and I apologize if you stumbled upon this thinking you were going to actually get some good advice about church plants. The best advice I can give is go silk or go home. Just make sure you dust them.

Pizza Delivery

I hate admitting I'm not perfect. I mean, I know it's fairly obvious that I make mistakes on a consistent basis, but I really love living in a state of denial.

Especially as a pastor. People want to think that their pastors are holier and more righteous than them. (Spoiler Alert: if you go to our church, you may not want to read the rest of this post) I'm not. Even. Close.

And, since I know Trevor fairly well, I'm pretty sure I'm able to vouch for him and say that he isn't, either. He's doing better than I am, but still not perfect.

Case in point- most of you are aware of the immigration debacle I've been living through the past four years or so. We're seeing the light at the end of the tunnel now, but until we actually get out of this dark purgatorial slums of the immigration waiting line I will not have my driver's license.

My license expired soon after Ainsley was born, and I lost just about all sense of freedom. It's one of the reasons I started blogging, because I needed something that didn't make me feel trapped in my own home.

In February, I got a letter from Canada Immigration saying "hey, we've gone over your application and everything looks great! You're almost done!" Or something like that. Not so cheerful. So, I took it into the Canadian equivalent to the DMV and they said, "That looks good for a couple months worth of driving freedom."

So, they gave me a temporary license. A two month temporary license. In February. For those of you who are rusty with your math, it's expired now.

I've also got a teensy weensy addiction to caffeine. Especially pop/soda/coke/whateveryoucrazieswanttocallit. I am aware that it is horrible for me and have been trying to quit. But last Thursday I reeeallly needed some of that deliciously fizzy soda water.

And we had none in the house. I figured it wouldn't be a horrible sin if we just quickly and quietly drove to the nearest corner store to pick up some high fructose refreshment. After I grappled with the ramifications of my direct rebellion for a while, the desire of my flesh took over and I loaded Ainsley in her carseat.

I forgot about God's secret weapon.

Aidan.

He asks, "Where are we going, mom?"

Me: "To the store."

Aidan: "Oh. Are we walking?"

Me: "No. It's too far. We're driving."

Aidan: "But you don't have your driver's license."

Dang.

Me: "Um, it's okay."

Aidan: "No it's not. You can't drive without a driver's license."

Me: "But I have a special license. Just for today."

Great. Now I'm lying to my kid, too. Not even like a tooth fairy/Santa lie.

Aidan: "Oh, cool! Did it come in the mail with the checks?" (he calls the bills "checks." I wish.)

Me: "Yep! Nope. No, there is no driver's license. Mommy's a filthy liar." (I may have just thought that last part)

Then a light bulb went off. I can order a pop from the pizza place and they'll deliver it to me! And I'll look like a real tool just ordering a pop.

Well, I guess we're having pizza for lunch.

So, Aidan pushed for me to do the right thing and got rewarded with pizza.

Why did I write this besides to prove how much of a jerk I am? Having integrity is a daily battle. One that I struggle with.

I'm too quick to compromise my morals when it benefits me. I'm too quick to open my mouth to say something critical about another person when I need to just keep it shut.

Sometimes "doing the right thing" costs something. Most times the only benefit is knowing that you didn't compromise everything you believe in for one bottle of Dr. Pepper. (mmm... Dr. Pepper...) But sometimes you get a pizza out of the deal.

So now there is no condemnation for those who belong to Christ Jesus.
And because you belong to him, the power of the life-giving Spirit has freed you from the power of sin that leads to death.
The law of Moses was unable to save us because of the weakness of our sinful nature So God did what the law could not do. He sent his own Son in a body like the bodies we sinners have. And in that body God declared an end to sin's control over us by giving his Son as a sacrifice for our sins.
He did this so that the just requirement of the law would be fully satisfied for us, who no longer follow our sinful nature but instead follow the Spirit.
Those who are dominated by the sinful nature think about sinful things, but those who are controlled by the Holy Spirit think about things that please the Spirit.
So letting your sinful nature control your mind leads to death. But letting the Spirit control your mind leads to life and peace.
Romans 8:1-6

Fatman and Robin

One thing I love about kids is the way they're able to insult you without even realizing they're doing it.

I'm not talking about the simple burn. I'm talking about those cutting remarks that leave your soul in a pile of ash. The ones that cut you to pieces like you're the Easter ham. The simple truths that you like to pretend no one knows about but you, but then a kid blurts it out and you think to yourself, "if they know, everyone else must know, too." gulp.

They say things like "You smell like dirty socks." Or, "That green dress makes you look like a big broccoli." Or, "You can't drive us to the store. You don't even have your driver's license." Or, "You need to take a shower." Or, "You're bad at that. Does that mean you're a loser?" (I may or may not have been told these things by my four year old.)

Small, seemingly defenseless children have a way of twisting the dagger deep into the heart. They have no concept of social niceties. They have no idea the power their words hold.

I was reminded about this the other day when Aidan and I were discussing super heroes. We don't watch much TV in our house, and one of the main reasons isn't because we feel like we're better than everyone, it's just that our son is incredibly sensitive to visual images. He doesn't want anything to do with anything dark, sinister, or violent. To a point where all he watches are shows like Diego, Dora, and Bob the Builder.

So, we aren't really up on the super hero circle. Most of his friends are, however. So he is vaguely familiar with them. And that's probably why he butchers their names. My favorite one is "Fatman."

The dark knight fighting the seedy underbelly of Gotham City while trying to fight his own belly as well. He had to head to the Big and Tall store to up-size his batsuit. He started having to take public transit because he can no longer fit inside the Batmobile.

Soon he'll get a job endorsing weight watchers or perhaps peddling delicious submarine sandwiches with 6 grams of fat or less.

I can just imagine the fit Christian Bale would throw if he could hear that one. And when I imagine Michael Keaton as a Ken doll, I don't think he'd be very pleased, either.

No matter how many times we try to correct him, Aidan insists, "No, it's Fatman and Robin."

Adam West must be rolling over in his grave. Wait. Is Adam West even dead? If not: sorry, man.

I've noticed adults do this more than we care to admit as well. I can't even number the amount of times I've said something stupid and hurtful and immediately wished I could take those words back.

What's really gotten me is the times that I didn't even realize I said something that could hurt someone. Oh, it's happened. Even with the purest intentions, I've made mistakes and said hurtful things to people that I didn't really mean.

And it sucked.

So as I teach my son to be aware of the power of his words, I'm teaching myself to do the same.

Evaluate what's coming out of your mouth. "Does what I'm saying have the potential to cause damage in another person?"

You just might save yourself a world of hurt. And you'll probably save someone else a world of hurt, too.

The tongue has the power of life and death, and those who love it will eat its fruit.
Proverbs 18:21

Low Fuel

My parents moved to North Dakota the summer before my sophomore year in college. My eight hour drive to Lee University in Tennessee suddenly became a twenty-eight hour drive.

I did the drive on my own at the beginning of fall semester, but wasn't too keen on the idea for Christmas break. So, my dad met me at the airport in Knoxville and we loaded up my Buick together and set out on the long road home.

The drive was fine until we hit South Dakota. There was a blizzard warning and the Department of Highways shut down Interstate 94 all the way across North Dakota. Smart people would hunker down in a hotel overnight and wait for the worst to pass.

My dad and I found a lesser highway that runs parallel to the interstate. As we navigated our way down US highway 12 in northern South Dakota, we realized it was too late to reevaluate our decision. We made our way through Aberdeen, Bowdle, and Ipswich with only the howling winds, whiteout snow, and blowing tumbleweed to accompany us.

We reached Mobridge, which is the point we start heading north. I suggested we get some gas, since we were hovering around 1/6 tank. Dad rebuffed my concerns and headed northward.

Soon we were in the wilderness during a blizzard late at night.

And the low fuel light came on.

And stayed on.

For the next 30 some miles.

I tried to call my mom on my cell phone so she would know to come find us if we didn't show soon, but alas, there was no signal.

Great. Now we're going to be Discovery Channel survival show fodder. I can't even go walk for help. I'm a college student. The only shoes I own are flip flops and high heels.

On the other hand, I'm pretty sure I have enough hair product to start an impressive fire to keep us warm.

In case you're wondering how that story ended, we got home okay. By the miraculous provision of God.

But I didn't learn very much. Years later, I'm in a minivan with my dear husband and two beautiful children in the wild of northern Alberta. We drive through a small town and Trevor suggests we get a bit of gas to ensure we have enough to reach our destination.

I waved him off and insisted we would be fine. We passed the gas station and drove a bit more before the low fuel light dinged on. Oops.

I learned two things that day.

1. I'm turning into my dad.

2. We humans have a bad habit of ignoring warning signs and then wondering later what went wrong.

We run on empty gas tanks and can't figure out why we're not effective. Why we never finish anything we start. Why we're exhausted. Discouraged. Depressed.

Sometimes we realize we're running on empty so we try to fabricate our own fuel. Do things on our own power. We're all about the works. Even when we realize we need God's strength to fill us, we think "What do I need to DO to get God's strength?"

Then we create this action plan that we need to follow to be in God's favor so that he will pour out His strength on us. In reality, though, access to God is simple.

When you go to a gas station, do you worry about where the gas is coming from?

Do you have to know create the gas yourself?

Refine the oil?

Do you have to know how the pump works?

What kind of metal they used?

Of course not. (Thank God)

All you have to know is how to take the gas cap off and how to connect the hose to your vehicle. (And to make sure you're not pumping diesel in your car)

So let's break this down-

• You'll have warning signs that you are running low on fuel, just like that shining gas pump symbol that flashes on your dash. Max Lucado writes about this in his book Come Thirsty. Irritability, competitiveness, being overly-sensitive, and being discouraged are some of the warning signs.
• No matter how hard you try, you will not be able to fabricate a synthetic fuel that can replace the power of God working in your life.  It will never be enough, and you will not be able to accomplish what God has set before you.  You cannot do it alone.  You may be able to for a while, but there is not sustainability.

• We like to over-complicate the process of refueling.  We have the right intentions, but we still try to do everything with our own strength.  Allow God to prove his strength in your life.  You just need to open up yourself to be filled, and connect.  Don't worry about the science of the process.  That's God's specialty.  You just worry about the connection.

Draw close to God, and God will draw close to you.
James 4:8a

May you experience the love of Christ, though it is so great you will never fully understand it. Then you will be filled with the fullness of life and power that comes from God.
Now glory be to God! By HIS mighty power at work within us, he is able to accomplish infinitely more than we would ever dare to ask or hope.
Ephesians 3:19&20 (emphasis added)

My Church

My husband and I are in a place that a lot of pastors don't get the privilege of enjoying. God knows that we didn't really do anything right or noble to get here, and we definitely don't deserve it. We've just been immeasurably blessed.

I love my church. Not just the mandatory "Jesus told us we have to love each other" love. I mean, I am enthralled and captivated by these amazing people who have been wrangled together like calves in a roping contest at the rodeo. God's hand has landed us all in the same corral as we look around dazedly wondering exactly how we ended up here. We've been mishmashed together in a beautiful, sloppy manner; the same way my four year old forces puzzle pieces to fit in places it seems they shouldn't go.

It doesn't quite make sense, this strange concoction of humanity that makes up our little church, but then again it does. When I finally stop trying to force the puzzle pieces to fit in the places I think they should go, they come together to form a new masterpiece that far outshines the cookie cutter image printed on the box.

It's like poetry.

The lyrical rise and fall of syllabic phrasing takes breaks and pauses where you expect none and barrels through the rests you feel should be. It catches you unaware, and jars you from your semi-conscious state to reevaluate exactly what you are looking at. The grouping of words, full of vibrancy, introducing tension and then(sometimes)resolution, creates the beauty of writing that draws us in.

I sit in my living room, surrounded by twenty-three other people. My living room isn't very big. They're sitting in folding chairs. On the floor. On the stairs. They're here for our church's "vision casting" meeting.

Thank you, Jesus. We have this many people who are passionate about our church, our family.

They care.

They want to be involved.

To serve.

How have we been so blessed?

These beautiful, amazing people.

We talk about the purpose of our church. The vision for our church.

We share our hearts.

I see eyes light up.

Hearts set on fire.

Burning embers stoked.

This is just the beginning.


Today I was cleaning the church by myself. Not because I had to. Just because I wanted to.

It's not even our building. But for now it's the best physical representation of our church I have.

And I just wanted to pour my love out on her. I feel completely overwhelmed by my love for this congregation we serve. I just had to do something physical to show it.

As I scrubbed walls, cabinets, pews, doors, and toilets I prayed "God, please help me to not screw this up. These people care about you. They love you. Please help me to not do anything that will break their spirits."

We have some amazing people in our church. Talented, courageous, dynamic people who are going to do amazing things for the Kingdom of God. It wouldn't take long for them to surpass what Trevor and I can accomplish. I feel awed that God has placed them in our hands to help cultivate and prepare them for their next steps in life.

I am anticipating great things for these people, this church whom I love deeply. Please pray for Trevor and I as we endeavor to be the leaders our church family needs to accomplish the mighty things God has for us.