What Church Leadership Got Wrong (And God Got Right)
What do you do when the church doesn’t see you? We explore the pain of being passed over and how God uses hidden seasons to shape our calling.
As a kid, I only wanted to do one thing with my life — be a Pastor.
That never changed. If anything, the fire burned hotter the older I got. I didn’t have a backup plan. I had a sense of calling and a stubborn belief that I was supposed to give my life to ministry.
But I didn’t grow up with much. College felt out of reach — not because I couldn’t handle it, but because no one in my world ever had. Scholarships? Financial aid? Not even on my radar. So I built a different kind of dream. I’d start a business, make enough money to serve at the church for free. That way, I could give myself fully to the ministry, no strings attached.
That was the vision: serve because I could. Be so valuable that they'd want me around. And if Bible college wasn’t an option? Fine. I’d just outwork everyone.
I remember being 16, working on a project for the church. This was the early internet era — the church had a main website, but none of the other ministries did. Nobody really knew how to build them. But I was a techy, introverted teenager who loved Jesus and wanted to help. So I figured it out. Taught myself through old books and online forums (this was pre-YouTube). I poured hundreds of unpaid hours into building those sites.
Then, one night, I got an email from a Pastor I’d been working with. He told me to hand the project off to someone else. There was no conversation, no explanation, just a quiet dismissal.
I was heartbroken, not because I couldn’t share, but because there was no care. No one asked if I was okay, and no one seemed to notice how much I had poured into it. In my desperation to make sense of it, I called the senior pastor and left a message. The next morning, I saw he’d called back, but the other Pastor followed up. And when he did, he was walking on eggshells—like I was fragile and a problem to manage.
But the message came out loud and clear: They don’t want me involved.
And I was done.
That was my first real taste of church leadership. Not the Sunday morning stage stuff. This was the behind-the-scenes, politics-and-position stuff. And it broke something in me. I thought I was building something sacred. Turns out, I was just… free labor.
That theme kept repeating. I applied for roles at that church, volunteered, showed up early, stayed late, and built things from scratch. Every time I hoped, "Maybe this is it," the door stayed shut.
This season was ending, and I wasn’t ready to let go.
Some people told me, “You should just move on.” But I couldn’t. Why wouldn’t the people who knew me best want me on the team?
Why wouldn’t the church family I loved want me to keep growing and serving?
What was wrong with me?
I spent many nights praying, asking God what He was doing behind the scenes. I wanted to believe there was purpose in the waiting, but honestly, I mostly just felt rejected.
Here’s what I know now:
Being overlooked by people doesn’t mean God has forgotten you.
When the prophet Samuel showed up to anoint the next king, David wasn’t even invited to the lineup (1 Samuel 16:11). His own father didn’t see his potential—didn’t even think to mention him. But God saw him and chose him.
That part wrecks me every time. Because I know what it’s like to show up early, stay late, do everything right… and still be left off the list.
I’ve lived that tension between calling and invisibility. Between wanting to serve and not being picked.
But here’s what I’ve learned: if God has called you, no amount of human oversight can cancel His anointing. Sometimes, He lets people overlook you, not to punish you, but to protect and prepare you.
David’s time in the field wasn’t a delay. It wasn’t a mistake. It was training.
He learned how to worship in secret. How to fight in silence. How to trust without applause.
And those moments? They mattered more than the public ones.
Your hidden season is not wasted.
It might just be the place where God is making you ready.
What I Wish I Could Tell My 20-Year-Old Self
Your calling isn’t tied to a location
Not all leadership is healthy, and your season there might be over before you know it
Staying in the wrong place too long will stunt your growth.
What Can We Do?
Take 10 minutes today and ask God this simple question:
“Lord, am I clinging to a place You’ve already called me to leave?”
Sit with it. Write down what comes. Don’t rush past it.
Sometimes clarity doesn’t strike like lightning — it comes through quiet honesty.
And if you're in a hidden season right now, lean into it.
Worship anyway. Serve with joy. Get better at the thing no one sees.
Because the field you’re in might be the very place your crown is being forged.
The Story Didn’t End There
A year after I left that role, God continued doing what He could only do. He redeemed what felt like a loss.
He grew me in ways I didn’t even know I needed. He opened doors I never would’ve knocked on. And when the opportunities came, I didn’t feel qualified. I did feel humbled that He still wanted to use me.
Today, I’m serving in a role that feels tailor-made. I'm surrounded by people I respect, and I'm doing work that feels like worship.
It’s proof that obedience matters. Leaving at the right time is just as important as staying.
Waiting is never wasted when God holds your story.
Let’s Keep the Conversation Going
If this hit home, don’t keep it to yourself.
🗣️ Drop a comment — have you ever been in a season where you felt overlooked or uninvited? What did God teach you in it?
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Let’s walk this road together.
So true and I have seen it run good Christian’s out of church all together.
Sometimes it takes a series of rejections and failures to search for the door that you never imagined. Your story rings true for me also. Even after “finding the door” it took ten years of hard work to get through it. And after that, a year of struggle until the perfect job opened. After that, still a couple more years to catch the full vision of what God could do in that situation. There were 16 years of doing what all those years of prayer and struggle had been preparing me to do. Then the door closed again. Back to prayer and looking for a new open possibility for ministry. “Lord, in this time of doing nothing consequential, cleanse me of sin and prepare me for future fruitfulness.”