“How many loaves do you have?” he asked. “Go and see.” When they found out, they said, “Five—and two fish.”

(Mark 6:38)

We like to think we have more than a few loaves. And definitely something more substantial than two fish. We’ve got serious gifts and passions and talents to bring to the table. Years of experience under our belts. Degrees on our walls and download stats on our social accounts. Impressive résumés and recommendations from people in high places. 

But the longer I do ministry, the more I suspect that it’s all just loaves and fishes. 

We either fight it or universalize it. 

We all have a dream of a future that involves someone or something or some place. In our shock we refuse to believe that the picture might not include A, B, or C after all. So we grip tighter. In vain, we leverage all of our energy towards forcing that future to still somehow exist.

We either miss it or deny it.

In a culture of on-demand everything, slowness is hardly perceived as motion at all. We are simply not conditioned to notice. Slow shifts barely register on our seisometers. It simply seems like nothing is happening. 

We prefer to take a good long look at the box top before we start putting the puzzle together. It’s a fluffy kitten, or a pile of cupcakes, or a Monet painting. But most of the time that’s not how faith and obedience work. Most of the time all we get is some oddly shaped piece that might be a part of an ear, or maybe some icing, or a patch of flowers. 

That’s what obedience looks like. 

Often, all we know is the next thing the Lord has asked us to do, and nothing more. No big picture. No strategic plan. No workflow. Just the one next step. 

I’m betting zero. Not a one. (If you can name one, please let me know. I’d love to be wrong!)

Yet Paul was still a success, right? Right.

Certainly someone somewhere has done research on this. At least enough to have an educated guess. I’m sure it’s a lot. By all accounts, and however much guestimating is involved, I think most everyone would agree on this: Paul was successful.

He was a winner. Sure, he took a whole lot of crap for his work. It wasn’t all rainbows and cupcakes. We’ve got some pretty gruesome stories from his life. Even though he himself boasts of his own sufferings in a few of his letters, there’s probably plenty he left out. In any case, his lists of sufferings endured make the point well: Ministry is hard as hell.

Or else it is derivative. And non-inspiring. 

No one has ever done what you’re doing: Led this organization. Served these people. Lived in this place at this time. Related to this family. Raised these kids. Befriended these neighbors. 

Is great advice for a four year old. But not for a fourteen year old.

They ask good questions. They know when they’ve come to edge of their understanding. They ask others for data, contexts, perspectives, and connections. 

Good leaders are not do-it-alls. They gather others around themselves who are more talented than they are. They build teams of those who can do what they can’t do, who have different inherent strengths, who have honed different skills.