Be You!

I’ll never forget being at a gathering of pastors from around the country. 

It was an eclectic group. Every doctrinal camp imaginable was represented. Every style of ministry was represented. Young leaders and older leaders. 

What made the moment unforgettable was when a pastor in his seventies walked over to talk with me. He had the “cool” thing down. Tight skinny jeans. Lace-up boots. Leather jacket. And a pound of gel in what little hair he had. 

A few minutes into the conversation, I felt like he really needed someone to tell him he was a wonderful guy, but he’d be more wonderful if he could find a way to get comfortable in his own skin. He was a tremendous example for me. While his insecurities may have been obvious, I walked away wondering if mine were as noticeable. 

At the time, I was in my forties. As I walked through the resort where we had gathered, I prayed and asked God to never allow me to try to hide the obvious or play pretend. God seemed to answer me with a question: “Marty, do you know who you really are?” 

That moment was a gift. I had to decide whether I was going to stop trying to be what I thought I was supposed to be—or what others wanted me to be—and be all of what God created me to be.

After a few humbling experiences and countless hours in front of a counselor, I finally figured out who I was created to be. I learned my greatest offering of thanksgiving and praise to God was to be … me. Who he created me to be. To be a good steward of my body, my emotions, my heart, my mind, my soul, my time, my resources, and my opportunities. 

This does not mean I can be excused from things I must do, whether or not they are of great interest to me, or whether or not I am naturally good at doing those things. There are many things I must do that I'd rather not do or am not particularly gifted to handle, yet my role requires that I step up and lead at times when I'd rather stay behind the scenes.

Becoming “me” was freeing. Becoming me did not mean I could be myself at others’ expense. Becoming me did not mean I could be rude, unkind, or judgmental of those who were different from me. It did not mean everyone else would have to adapt to who I was. 

Becoming me did not require an announcement: “I’m an introvert. Leave me alone!” Becoming me did not excuse me from the hard work required to fulfill aspects of my role that may not be natural abilities or strengths. There are some aspects of my role, especially in a growing church, that require very hard work and intense efforts in order to bring the very best to the Crossings family. 

So, all this to say, as I observe the church leadership flavor of the month, the various “how to do it right” advice, I wish someone would start helping pastors know who they are, know their gifts, know what they do well, and how to put others around them who shore up their weaknesses. 

Find security in Christ, in his creative work in your life, by using the gifts you’ve been given. Add integrity and honesty to the equation, and you’ve given God something he can use. 

I’m learning that what people are really looking for when they walk into a church is a leader who is genuine, honest, transparent, and real. I’m finding the younger generation is not that concerned with how old I am. What they crave to know is if I care, if I’m willing to listen, and whether I can gently walk with them as they journey toward Christ. 

I was doomed to fail as long as I insisted on creating the image I thought I was supposed to create, or the image I assumed others wanted me to be. It was exhausting. If I was to continue in ministry at the various turning points of my life, it meant I had to work hard, learn fast, and, some days, make myself get out of bed and allow God to stretch me when I'd rather coast. 

If I wanted comfort, I could have had it. But if I wanted to continue reaching people who needed the unconditional love of Jesus, then I had to get up, show up, step up, and serve others when I preferred to be served.

Some would call this a sacrifice on my part. It isn't. As a pastor in a fabulous city such as Oklahoma City, in a country that is still the very best place to be on the planet, leading a church that is generous and kind, I can tell you I've known very little sacrifice in my life. I am sometimes hesitant to ask for too much from our people, but I continually find the people of Crossings wanting to run faster than I can lead them. They always give more than I ask for. 

As I look back on forty years of ministry in this city, it seems to have been similar to a relay race. There were times I'd start off and get things going and then hand it off to the next person to run with it. They might run for a while and either hand it off to someone else or hand it back to me. This meant I had to run until I could hand it off again. 

Most of the time, I've not been the one crossing the finish line. It has been a loyal, tireless volunteer who faithfully served, or a staff member who was as determined as I was to make something happen that God had called us to do. The one crossing the finish line was the one who got the applause and attention. At first, I thought it had to be me. Over time, I’ve learned that honoring the winners running with me was far more rewarding than insisting I get the attention. And being an introvert, I really didn't want the attention anyway.

Isn't it interesting how God uses our strengths and weaknesses to accomplish great things with eternal impact? And I can speak from experience!