The rising sun illuminated the sky above my head in incredible hues of purple, pink, orange, and red that danced across the sky, which was awaiting the sun to pierce the horizon and warm the sand beneath my feet. It was a picture-perfect early summer morning at the beach, but my heart churned wildly as if tossed about by a violent storm at sea.

Fear of what the future would hold ravaged my heart. Self-doubt paralyzed me. The sadness of painful past ministry experiences and lost relationships tormented me. Grief over my own sin was closer to me than my shadow. It seemed as if these feelings that were once sporadic visitors of my heart had unpacked and were now freeloading, and I didn’t know how to get rid of them.

As I walked the beach that beautiful morning, I rehearsed all the reasons that I felt I was in over my head in pastoral ministry. I was convinced that the problems my church was facing were beyond my capabilities. I was certain that any wisdom, gifts, or positives that I brought to the table were easily negated by my leadership weaknesses, lacking pastoral skills, and crippling fear of man. And I was right. God gave me the painfully precious gift of showing me that I was in over my head.

That morning, and many mornings afterwards, the Lord showed me that I could not build the church in my own strength. Of greater significance, the Lord showed me that I could not build his church in my own strength.

In the kindness of holding up the mirror and exposing my own insufficiency, God allowed me to look through a window of his grace to see his sufficiency.