I just finished reading the book Fighting for Our Friendships by Danielle Jackson. She’s a friendship therapist, meaning she works with people experiencing conflicts in their friendships. The book ends with the question: when is it time to let go of a friendship? This could apply to a relationship of any sort really. Here are the reasons she would recommend moving on:
- The only reason you’re staying is because of how long you’ve been together. This is also known as sunk-cost fallacy. Sometimes we stick with someone or something because it’s just been a long time. It’s one reason loveless marriages sometimes stay together long after the partners have drifted apart, and it’s one reason friendships outlast their meaning to us. A lot of friendships are situational; situation changes (new job, new city, new personal circumstances) and the relationship ends.
- There’s a lack of trust. The friend has proven to us that she won’t keep our secrets or that she doesn’t have our best interests at heart. She has betrayed you, and you don’t trust that she won’t do it again.
- Despite your best efforts, the friendship is just not reciprocal. Despite all of your efforts to connect with this friend, she just doesn’t value the relationship as much as you do, or conversely, when she needs you, you are there; when you need her, she’s not.
- She doesn’t value your feelings. She treats you in a callous or uncaring manner when you need her support. She reacts with sarcasm or mockery when you really need a friend.
- You don’t like who you are when you’re together. She brings out the worst qualities in you, influencing your decisions in a negative way. You look at yourself in the mirror when you’ve spent time together, and you don’t see your best self.
For a super quick post, I thought I would apply these to an individual’s relationship with the church because they sounded rather salient. Attending a church should be the opposite of these things. It should be a place that brings out the best in you, one that both cares for you and gives you the opportunity to serve others. It should be where your emotional health is forefront because spirituality literally exists to feed the soul. You should feel that you can trust your church and your leaders with your struggles, that they can be relied upon. So, how can these “reasons to let go” in friendships look if applied to someone’s church experience?
The thought of walking away is too painful given how much time you’ve been in it. Does the phrase “enduring to the end” really sound awful? Do you struggle with the idea of how much tithing you paid into the church or how many hours you spent on it? Does the sunk cost feel like too much to walk away from or to contemplate?
Lack of trust. This is a common refrain in post-Mormon spaces: I didn’t have a “faith crisis.” I had a “trust crisis.” When they discover information that they weren’t aware of before or are confronted with things like the SEC scandal or the actions of Kirton-McConkie, members sometimes feel they can no longer trust the church. This can also happen when a leader breaks confidentiality or mishandles their confession. Additionally, anyone who has suffered sexual abuse in the church will probably feel this way. There is also a lot of discussion about discovering leaders who were caught “lying for the Lord” or telling faith-promoting falsehoods. Apologetics can also lead to a trust crisis.
It’s not you, it’s them. The Church asks a lot of its members, and at some point, it can feel like it’s just too much. You might need help, only to be treated with suspicion, put through the wringer by a leader who wants to inspect your cupboards before providing welfare support, or you might be given a strict limit on the type of help offered (a week of casseroles, no money).
F**k your feelings. An example of this that hits close to home is when Oaks made the callous joke in General Conference about the woman who wrote in worried that after she died, her husband’s first wife would still be married to him, and the audience nervously chuckled (as did Oaks who downplayed this woman’s fear of polygamy with a hand-waving “it will all work out in the eternities”[1]). If you’ve raised concerns to a leader and been told the problem is you or that if you just did more of the standard things (pray, read scriptures, stop thinking about it), then everything will be fine, then you have experienced your feelings being dismissed. If you’ve put your heart and mind into a calling and had your ideas overruled or ignored by a leader, you may also feel this way.
You don’t like who you are at Church. Does church bring out your best qualities, making you a better parent, a better friend, a better disciple? Or does it make you judgmental of others, self-justifying, too scrupulous or focused on checklist behaviors? Do you expend your “good works” mental space on things that ultimately are pointless and don’t benefit humanity (such as a calling you find no meaning in, or personal sacrifices related to your clothing or jewelry)? Do you find yourself policing others, tattling on them, or indoctrinating others (closing minds rather than opening them) when you are assigned to teach a lesson or give a talk?
So that’s it. A super quick post today.
- Have you had a friendship or relationship end for one of these reasons? Share the story if you feel comfortable.
- Are there friendships you should have let go earlier that you didn’t? Why not?
- How does this list stack up to your church experience?
Discuss.
[1] Polygamy will clearly all work out for the men in the eternities, not for the women. While I’m pretty sure all the women understand that, a few of the men must think we are idiots if they think this promised celestial lobotomy is a persuasive apologetic.
Wheat & Tares 
BEST POST EVER!!! It was short. It was sweet. (At least it made me feel good.) And to the point. Jordan Peterson argues for the same thing when he says, “A good friend is someone who celebrates your successes and commiserates your failures.” As opposed to someone who is constantly one upping you when you share your true feelings. TLDR version of this post. https://www.facebook.com/drjordanpeterson/posts/heres-how-to-tell-who-your-true-friends-are-if-youre-starting-to-put-your-life-t/585823689654787/
This is a wonderful post. It reminds me of those immortal words of the Door Mouse: “This came as a strange letdown, to see how the game always went to those who knew the rules without understanding the lesson.”
For that is what has happened in the modern Church. There had been an over emphasis on esoteric rules, and a lack of understanding of what the lesson is. There has been a retrenchment, while ignoring the fact that members who feel abandoned won’t be willing to retrench anything.
When the Church abandoned “Mormons,” it abandoned the sense of community that kept so many members involved. As Ms Hawk states, members felt that their friendships had been taken from them. Or at least been allowed to fade away.
The Church was successful in the past at building friendships, and that created a sense of community. Now, people sit at home in isolation zooming church on one screen while Dua Lipa videos stream on another.
What the Church should retrench is the sense of community that allowed friendships to flourish. That should be the lesson.
I agree with all the above. The last bullet from Hawkgrrl was one that I have never seen in written that way before in these blogs.
When I was still attending church I came to despise Sundays, and although I was in leadership, I felt like I and my family did not belong. These were not my people despite being a lifetime member.
In my profession, I have always tried avoiding doing business with other members. I never promoted my business at church and discouraged from members consulting with myself. However, I had 2 fellow congregants who I was working at the time with at my business. I opened up and commented to them that I was a completly different person at work (in a very positive way), than at church. At work I was happy and energetic, whereas at church I did not have a voice and I got to the point that I did not like who I was at church. I finally realized I was not the problem, but it was the institution.
I found that the church was not my friend and my entire family was ghosted after giving our entire lives to the church.
The church community involving dinners, dances, parties, sports and such of prior years is all gone for adults and sparce for the youth. Activit with a “spiritual experience” are laughable. Only the ladder climbing clique remains, and their friendships are all superficial based on their personal gain.
The church is only a one sided friendship and has zero reciprocation.
A long-time friend of my wife’s who had become a friend of mine as well, and regularly visited us sued us for $100,000. Why? She and my wife were involved in a car accident where my wife was the driver and slid on an icy bridge to a complete stop, without hitting anything, only to then be hit by five other cars. There were no serious injuries in the car accident. But the car was totaled and our friend experienced some neck pain. Her neck pain was inoperable, according to one surgeon. According to another it was. The neck pain wasn’t debilitating, but a persistent inconvenience. She was a very active person and didn’t seem to limit her activity much because of the pain. But a few years down the road she hired a pitbull of a lawyer who sued our insurance company. We were notified and we thought that that was reasonable and fine. But then the lawyer ended up suing my wife, and then me for giving my wife the keys to our car (another reason that I hate lawyers with a dying passion). The insurance eventually settled and the suit was dropped against us. But she was just oblivious to what her lawyer was doing and how this was possibly impacting us. She simply could not accept that sometimes accidents happen and that it isn’t anyone’s fault per se. Someone had to pay, in her mind. After the suit she thought that we could just go on being friends. But my wife bid her farewell and discontinued the friendship in a hard conversation on our doorstep.
During the suit my wife and I experienced the sunk-cost fallacy. We had been friends for so long. Was it right to end it? Her political beliefs sometimes annoyed us, but she was often cheery and fun to talk to. On the other hand, she was weigh my wife down with her complaining about life and her bouts of depression. She was kind of a me, me, me person. The suit was the last straw, we thought, and we let her go.
I feel the same with my relationship with the church. Great memories, great friendships, great community experiences, great challenges, and great periods of personal growth. Thanks to the church. But at some point I just started noticing things that didn’t seem right. I would shrug it off and tell myself that the positive outweighed the negative. Then I started noticing more things. I would consult the apologists, but I started noticing things with them. My mom sent me Lawrence Corbridge’s Stand Forever talk in which he accuses ex-Mormons of obsessing about secondary questions and ignoring primary questions of God’s existence, Jesus’s divinity, Joseph Smith’s prophethood, and the church’s being the Kingdom of God. What I realized at that moment was that it was not only one of the most godawful talks I had read, but that my issue was no longer seemingly trivial matters with the church, but with its underlying structure. Its concept of God seemed absurd. I couldn’t understand how exactly Joseph Smith was a prophet (what did he prophesy exactly?) And the church simply didn’t feel how I thought I Kingdom of God on the earth might feel. I continue for my wife. But in a very much mentally removed sense.
Like Faith above, I had never considered the idea of not liking who I was at church. At church, I was distrustful, guarded, and I really don’t like Molly Mormons, so why be friends with them. And Peter Priesthoods are the kind of guys who got too friendly (not sexually, but chummy, missionary handshakes and salesman personality) by my personal standards. They demanded my trust because they had a church position or just because they had priesthood, while treating me like I couldn’t be trusted. Kind of acting like they were my father and I was a rebellious teen. First of all, I resented being always treated like a child by the men, so I was constantly wanting to kick some arrogant a**h*** in the balls. And outside the church I am friends with both men and women. It was Mormons that I don’t like.
And I have learned over the years that the relationship with the church is one sided. You can do stuff for it and give to it, and it just demands more. Yet, as soon as you need anything, it abandons you faster than you can blink.
The friendship is not reciprocal, but strictly one sided and you are worth only as to what the church can get out of you. If you are a woman and limited in the callings they need to fill, that means you are worth less and if you ever turn down a calling you are forever worthless. They even act like tithing only comes from men because they stick the woman’s tithing under her husband’s name and suddenly she isn’t even a tithe paying member.
The church talks like it takes care of members when they have a need, but that is something I personally have never seen. As children during a strike at the steel mill, we were allowed to go hungry. I didn’t even have shoes for 6 months. When my brother was brain injured and needed 24/7 nursing care, and the insurance said he had hit their max, the church wouldn’t even send in women to give my mother a break so she could get two hours a sleep a day. The RSP, my mother in law at the time, was FORBIDDEN from sending in any help!?!? My experience is if you are not giving more to the church than you are asking, it turns its back on you and slams the door.
But like an abused woman, I stayed because I saw what the church *could* be, if only it practiced what it preached. I thought I loved it because I saw so much potential. (And there I was counseling women to leave an abusive man and stop thinking someday he would live up to his potential.)
This was hard to read, because it hit close to home. The question I’ve been asking myself lately is “what are you doing here?” I’m struggling to find answers. For now, I’m playing the piano for kids to be able to sing, “Love one another as Jesus loves you. Try to show kindness in all that you do. Be gentle and loving in deed and in thought, for these are the things Jesus taught.” We’re preparing for the primary program, so we’ve been singing that one nearly every week lately.
I’ve built a lot of separation between The Church and my ward. I don’t attend The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I attend my ward. As of late, I’ve found very little comfort, compassion or christianity from The Church. I still find it in my ward. It is unclear to what extent this separation is a long term solution for me.
I feel DaveW’s formulation of separating the institutional church and my ward. My ward are my friends, albeit many of them casual. But they are dependable, can be trusted, and extend grace. The ward gives me and my kids opportunities to learn from and serve immigrants. Even if I disagree with some of what gets taught in talks and lessons, the spirit of Christ is there. Do I find myself policing others or closing minds when I teach? Of course not, that’s my opportunity to say and teach whatever I want and I do not hold back (ok maybe a little).
But now I have a stake calling, and I am now experiencing the part of the Venn diagram where there is overlap between ward-level function and institutional church. It makes me a bit uncomfortable, this management ethos that I feel in the stake meetings and the sense that it is being controlled by the area presidency. It feels like the higher you go in the church, the more you see distance between the church and Christ’s basic gospel.
i think perhaps we, as a culture, overemphasize the general or institutional church and minimize the local church — I think it is error to think of stakes as operating units of the general church, and error to think of wards as operating units of stakes. But the top-down American business model hierarchal view is not just dominant, but is pervasive.
I hope we can mature into something else as time passes, but there is zero evidence of movement in that direction.
For almost all of us, the local church should be what matters most in my mind. However, I am at or near the very bottom of the church hierarchy, so I have no allowance to share my thoughts in church settings. I wish we could have honest discussions among ourselves in church settings.
DaveW,
I was primary pianist for a total of seven years–one year in my previous ward and six years in my current ward. It was the perfect calling for me at a very difficult time.
Somewhere in all of this we’ve got to figure out how to strike a balance between not placing ourselves in unhealthy situations and bearing one another’s burdens. When king Benjamin says, “see that all these things are done in wisdom and in order,” he’s talking about our dealings with others–especially those who have special needs. And I think one of things we might draw from his counsel is that we don’t have to force ourselves to interact with individuals that have broken our trust. Yes, we may forgive them–but that doesn’t mean that we should risk being harmed by them again.
And so, as it relates to bearing one another’s burdens — and taking king Benjamin’s counsel to heart — hopefully we’ll be able to draw a distinction between what is an unreasonable commitment towards serving others and what is doable–indeed, what would be truly edifying. And it’s my hope that as we position ourselves to bear the burdens of others in our wards and stakes that we’ll accept the collective weakness of the saints as part of the package we should be willing to bear.
I didn’t let my friendship with the church go, but I did change it. Previously my friendship with the church was a co-dependent relationship where I felt a strange mix of obligation and desire to do everything the church said, in hopes of recieving blessings that may or may not come.
My new relationship (I think) is much healthier. In my new relationship, the church is more of an acquaintance, my kids like to go to their house to do activities. I no longer feel an obligation to take to heart and obey everything they say- but we do share a common interest in that we both profess that we want to follow the teachings of Jesus. So the times that I’m following the teachings of Jesus and it matches up with what the church is doing, that works out great. Sure, let’s continue to be friends.
I have felt for a long time that every calling above the ward level is sine cure, without care of souls. No souls are saved above the ward level, which is why the ward organization is the most important that is. Yes, other callings above the ward level have much more prestige, but does anyone think that a stake RS or YW president saves more souls than a ward RS or YW president? This is true all the way up. The wards, and not the stakes, area, and general offices are where the best and brightest should be, but we’ve flipped it, because we are obsessed with a top-down hierarchal model as is taught in our business schools, where we see ward people as employees of their boss, the bishop, and bishops’ bosses being stake presidents, and on up.
How many bishops see the power in their calling as focusing on what only they can do, and empowering their ward people, who are called, sustained, and set apart to act, to act as those people see fit, instead as how the bishop wants them to act? How many bishops see themselves as servants to, and enablers of, their EQ, RS, YW, and primary presidents? How many bishops see themselves as autocrats in their wards, enthroned to rule and reign through their servants? Same for stake presidents with bishops, and area presidents with stake presidents.
Not enough leaders see themselves as servants. I think that some bishops, some stake presidents, and some general authorities love the adulation of the members, and enjoy the figurative ring kissing and obeisance. Like demanding that everyone remain seated after the amen, until the presiding person chooses to stand. That smacks me like arrogance and a love of adulation, and I hope that this doesn’t happen anywhere in the church. The meeting is over when the presiding authority allows the closing prayer to be said, not when he stands up.
Gordon B Hinckley warned our leaders: “It is so very important that you do not let praise and adulation go to your head. Adulation is poison. You better never lose sight of the fact that the Lord put you where you are according to His design, which you don’t understand. Acknowledge the Lord for whatever good you can accomplish and give Him the credit and the glory and [do] not worry about that coming to yourself. If you can do that, you’ll get along all right and will go forward with a love for the people and a great respect for them and try to accomplish what your office demands of you.” — From Deseret News/Church News interview, Feb. 25, 2000. President Hinckley only warned leaders about adulation because it was happening. If it wasn’t happening, he wouldn’t have needed to warn us. Maybe it was happening where he could see it. I don’t know.
Georgis,
I agree that there are some similarities between the organization of the church and American business models. But there are also some important differences too–perhaps the most notable being the anointing. The Savior told his apostles that he is the trunk and they are the branches–and that without him they could do nothing. But this isn’t a simple structure put in place to manage the flow of authority–yes authority is part of it but there’s more to it than that. The Savior is the living fount from which flows the power of godliness through the channels of his priesthood. And so what we have is a structure where the least become the greatest–in the sense that the whole organization is designed to bless the very least with the greatest of all gifts. And so, while there are systems within systems and high priests put in place to preside over them–the whole operation really amounts to the management and proper dispensation of the sacred elements necessary to grant the least saint access to the power of godliness.
Interesting post, but for me there is one major contrasting caveat. I don’t think I have ever had a platonic friendship that ever became as deeply a part of my identity as church. I have a hard time identifying with the word “leaving” because I don’t think I am fundamentally capable of that. It feels like “leaving” the church is akin to “leaving” myself which is a concept so abstract that I cannot comprehend it. My heritage and my culture will always be tied to the church.
For me, the rift began with mistrust and eventually the church that was my home for so long felt foreign and strange. It became apparent that people like me weren’t welcome. This was pretty clearly expressed in EQ with statements such as “You shouldn’t help people who are struggling. They’ll only drag you down with them.” Ironically, that was the lesson on Christlike attributes.
I must confess that I still love the church but it is a love unrequited. The last few times I attended it was only painful. I knew it was time to let go. I never found community in my ward so that made it easier. There has been zero pastoral care or concern in the year that I have been gone.
It isn’t all bad though. Even though I let go of the church (and the church let go of me), I feel like I have found many new “friends” such as Julian of Norwich, Fr. Richard Rohr, Pete Enns + Jared Byas, David Dark, the Wheat and Tares blog etc. that have really enriched my life. This new playground is a lot bigger and frankly more exciting than anything I have known before.
@Jack,
Are the “least saints” really so helpless that they can’t “access the power of godliness” without “the whole operation” of “systems and high priests put in place to preside over them”? Really??
I’ve found that I’m so much more connected to the heavens since I decided to stop allowing Oaks, Nelson, Bednar, Packer, McConkie, and the rest of them to tell me what to think and do, or as you say, “preside over me”, and instead started relying on myself. It turns out I had I all I really needed inside of me all the time. I still have lots of questions and mysteries, but at least my life is aligned with my values and what “the Spirit” is guiding me to do, which is a whole lot different from what Oaks and some of the “prophets, seers, and revelators” have been telling me to think and do my entire life.
“The Savior is the living fount from which flows the power of godliness through the channels of his priesthood.”
Jack, I am as faithful and upstanding as you (I think), but I don’t understand what you mean — do you mean that every decision by every church officer can be directly traced back to the Savior Himself (the living fount), and therefore every decision by every church officer is perfect and holy?
i regret hearing the stories that some people tell about being treated uncharitably or imperiously by a church officer — these stories sadden me. Of course, what I hear is always incomplete and there may be misunderstandings or emotions that color the story, but I have been around long enough to know that there is a possibility of some or even substantial truth in some of those stories, and that saddens me and I hope for change so those stories won’t be repeated. But it seems you don’t hope for change, because everything is perfect already. Maybe I see perfection as aspirational, while you see it as already present? At least, that is what I am discerning in this impersonal exchange.
i believe in sustaining leaders! Amen! But I also wish our church culture would allow for more candid and sincere discussion and exploration (and the growth that will come with such), and I hope we will realize one day that the American hierarchal business model that we use in the church is not really a good approach for the Lord’s church. Of course, I cannot explore this thought in a church setting or in person with a church member, as I would be immediately branded as a heretic (another pathology in our church culture?) — but I don’t think of myself as a heretic. And I don’t have the rank or station in the church to try to do things differently. I am indeed troubled to hear that a member of our First Presidency is calling for more disciplinary councils and more excommunications.
I value my identity as a son of God, and want to be faithful to the end. But as some have shared in this thread, it sometimes feels like unrequited love between me and the institutional church. I know that any need I may have for dignity, respect, meaningful participation, give and take, credibility, and so forth has to be found outside of church — and while I do find these things outside of church, I sometimes wish I could find them at church. I believe I could give so much more, but my gift isn’t wanted.
At least, that’s how I feel now. I may feel differently in the future.
ji, yes, the line you quoted from Jack means precisely what you discern. Put differently: we say that leaders are fallible, but we do not believe it. We say fallibility but we practice and teach leader infallibility. When Jesus taught about the vine and the branches, I see individual members, men and women, as the branches and connected personally to Christ who is the vine. Others see the branches as only leaders. The branches, connected to the vine, produce fruit. I see the fruit as righteous deeds and faith, converted souls, the spreading of the gospel, etc. Some see the fruit as church members who are not branches nourished by the vine, but are individual members whose only access to the vine is through the branches (leaders). In this understanding, all nourishment to the members flows only through general and local leaders; no member (unless also a leader) has any direct connection to the vine. Thus when the president of the church tells us to get personal revelation, he affirms my understanding that we are all directly connected to the vine. Others then come in and temper the teaching, like saying your personal revelation is only valid if leaders agree with it, or if your leaders said it first. I believe that every believer is a branch with a direct connection to the vine.
“President Hinckley only warned leaders about adulation because it was happening. If it wasn’t happening, he wouldn’t have needed to warn us. Maybe it was happening where he could see it.”
In my 50 years in the church I haven’t seen IMO a prophet with so much lack of humility and love of adulation as Nelson.
I have always thought the prophet should be the most humble person in the church, and I have not felt any of that with Nelson. It is not helped by the groupie wife.
I have worked for a lot of surgeons and I am not sure the Nelson expectation of adulation is based on his history of being totally in charge in the operating room….which tends to overflow into behavior outside the operating
Ji and Georgis,
I really enjoyed your comments. I deeply want to be faithful to the church, but for me to do that they have to allow/encourage me to think for myself, pray, study, get different answers, and speak openly, honestly and genuinely. I always believed that was what was taught as a younger person. They need to honor my personal connection with God. I love the comparison Georgis made about the tree.
I have no interest in someone in authority telling me what I am allowed to think and say. I prefer to follow Jesus and Joseph Smith’s example and follow God directly. I can consider what people in authority are saying. But they aren’t God and I have to evaluate things for myself. How else can I grow?
ji,
My guess is that your *more* faithful and upstanding than I am–and more importantly your more charitable than I am.
et al,
My comment had mostly to do with showing how the church’s organization *differs* from business models in spite of whatever similarities there may be. We have to remember that the priesthood adds a third dimension to the church that all business models lack–it’s the power to unlock the heavens. And the ultimate design of the Kingdom is to draw people in so that they may receive those powers for themselves and become exalted. That’s a far cry from a model that’s designed to keep grunt laborers satisfied at “competitive” compensation. The last literally become first and vice versa when the primary focus of the Kingdom is to bestow upon its children every gift necessary to make them fit for the Lord’s presence.
You’re–not your.
lws329, we in the church need to start treating people with respect and dignity. We generally afford them neither. When President Nelson told us that we need to learn to get revelation for ourselves, I took him at face value. Others then seem to come in to cheapen what he said because we cannot be trusted. I don’t know why they’re allowed to do this, but they apparently are. So either President Nelson was sincere in what he taught, which is what I want to believe, or maybe the “staff” got to him afterwards and told him that he gave away too much without getting tower clearance (an airplane metaphor, but also perhaps a metaphor for the big building behind the FP and 12’s building). Or the staff told him that he had erred. Maybe they asked for permission to retract, place limits around, temper, or lessen the impact of his teaching. I don’t want to believe in the second option.
Instead of a leader looking at a ward member and seeing someone good who is trying, it seems like what we see more often is a leader looking at a ward member and seeing what that person hasn’t done. We focus on failings instead of achievements. Instead of rejoicing over the good that someone does, we often lament over the good that they didn’t do. I wish that we saw enough dignity in anyone halfway trying that we could say thank you, but as a people we don’t do that. The people follow the examples of their leaders.
For example, in a ministering interview, instead of accountability (who did you visit, how many times, how, why didn’t you visit more, etc.), RS and EQ presidencies could actually minister to the individual, encourage him or her, and give sincere praise for whatever little good was done, without reminding the interviewee of what was not done. Most members of the church want to do better, but putting guilt on them without caring one whit about that individual’s problems is cold. Not recognizing what they did do, and emphasizing what they didn’t do, is not a recipe for building good morale. I would hope that a leader could accord me the dignity of a son or daughter of God, a fellow worker with Christ, and a future joint heir of salvation, and could lift, invite, encourage, instead of pointing out my failings, which I already know about, thanks! We seem to lead with guilt, coercion, and shame, and I would rather we lead with love, invitation, encouragement.
I am not ready to let go, and I do not intend to. I hope that more of our leaders can lead with more love, will minister more and demand accountability less, will serve instead of demanding to be obeyed, and will build instead of tear down. One way that I keep my sanity is that I know that people can be wrong, including leaders. I don’t tell everyone when they are wrong because that’s not my place and it isn’t my nature, but I press on trying to live the gospel in my corner of the world as best as I can figure it out. I cannot please every leader and peer in all things, at all times, in all places, and in all ways. I don’t even try. I do what little I can.