A catalyst is one that sparks something. The catalyst speaks from experience and enables others to move forward more freely. These articles are written to act as a catalyst in your life.
I’m competitive with myself, with the weights, with life, with pretty much everything around me. So sometimes I skip rest days. Because who wants to take a break when there’s more to lift, more to do, more to “fix”?
But here’s the thing I’m learning in my years of experience (aka being old as my daughter would put it): skipping rest is not strength. It’s weakness dressed up in busyness.
Muscles grow when you recover, not when you grind nonstop. And muscles are a lot like other parts of our lives, including faith! Spiritual growth, emotional health, even leadership stamina all thrive in the spaces where we pause.
Rest isn’t optional. It’s resistance. It’s saying no to the things that aren’t going to move the needle.
It’s saying no to the lie that productivity equals value.
It’s telling the world (and yourself) that you trust God to keep working when you stop.
It’s bending the knee to a rhythm bigger than your to-do list.
Some of the best work I’ve ever done in the gym, in ministry, in life all started with a deliberate pause. A day off. A walk in the field. A quiet coffee without guilt. A slow evening with a one finger pour. The pause brings purpose to the process.
So take a breath. Step back. Turn off the blower, put the weights down, and let God do what only He can do. You’ll come back stronger. You’ll last longer. And you’ll probably be a lot less likely to look like a man riding a chicken.
Because rest is not laziness. Rest is resistance against burnout. And in a world that won’t stop demanding, that’s a radical act of faith.
It was one of those mornings when the world still felt half-asleep. The sky was dark. The coffee hadn’t quite kicked in yet. And the traffic heading downtown was already thick enough to make you question your life choices.
I had my audio book just loud enough to keep me alert. Then ding . A message popped up on my CarPlay. Instinctively, my brain lit up like a Christmas tree. Pavlov’s dog had nothing on me.
“Who’s texting me this early?” “Is it important?” “I should probably check.”
And then the rational part of me broke through the noise. Hey dummy! You’re driving 70 miles an hour down I-71 and it’s dark outside. You’re not that important. If we’re honest we should ask is anyone really that important?
That thought hit me harder than I expected. Because it’s true, isn’t it? Somewhere deep down, we’ve convinced ourselves that every buzz, ding, and vibration demands our immediate attention. It’s as if the world can’t spin another rotation without our reply.
But what if it can?
That’s when I remembered the little Focus button on my iPhone. You know, that little half-moon icon we swipe past on our way to something “more important.” So I hit it. Silence. Peace.
Suddenly, I was just… driving. Watching the cars bounce between lanes in front of me. I wasn’t in a hurry. I wasn’t distracted. I was quiet. Breathing. Thinking. Praying.
Focus mode didn’t just block notifications. It gave me back presence.
We live in a world that glorifies busyness and constant availability. But maybe the most powerful thing we can do in our day, for our soul, our relationships, even our sanity is to silence the noise.
Jesus often withdrew to quiet places to pray. He didn’t do it because He was avoiding people. He did it to focus. He did it to tune out the crowd and tune in to His Father.
So here’s your challenge. Today, before your day dings and buzzes you into oblivion, tap that little moon icon. And turn on Focus.
Maybe just for an hour? Maybe just when you’re driving? Maybe just when you’re eating dinner with the family?
You’ll be surprised how much peace fits in the space that silence creates.
Only in the United States could we take an hour from the end of our day, move it to the beginning, and convince ourselves we’ve got more day. It’s the type of math that would make your third-grade teacher roll her eyes in disbelief!
But here we are again, time to “fall back” this Saturday night.
Every year, we all face the same dilemma: When do we fall back?
Maybe you’re like my mom. Growing up, she’d set the clocks back first thing in the morning. This meant the entire day felt like some twilight zone time warp. Breakfast was too early? Night activities felt late. And nobody knew what time lunch was supposed to happen!
Or maybe you’re a “last-minute before bed” person. You make the big adjustment right before you hit the pillow. The plan is that you can wake up and pretend your body magically agrees that 6 a.m. is suddenly 5 a.m.
And then there’s the real debate. What do you do with that extra hour?
Do you actually sleep in, basking in that glorious “bonus hour of siesta”?
Or are you one of those people who thinks, “Oh goody, an extra hour to stay up and binge one more episode”?
Look it really doesn’t matter you handle it. Here’s your friendly reminder: Set your clocks back one hour before you go to bed on Saturday night.
And while you’re at it, take a deep breath. Whether it’s light or dark, early or late, God’s the same yesterday, today, and forever. (Hebrews 13:8)
So enjoy your “extra” hour… even if it’s just an illusion. And heck if your body gets you up a little early…maybe I’ll see you Sunday morning in church!
Let’s be honest, pastors can be some of the best actors around. Far too often we preach about authentic faith but live like we’re auditioning for Most Holy Person of the Year.
We smile even when we’re exhausted. We shake hands when we’d rather hide. We quote Scripture while quietly wondering if it still works the same for us as it does for everyone else.
The truth? Ministry can end up polishing the soul until it looks shiny from a distance but leaves the inside feeling…hollow.
And that’s not just a pastor thing. It’s a people thing. Leaders, parents, teachers, entrepreneurs, all of us! We’re all trying to hold it together in public while life leaks in private.
I’ve done it too. For years, I lived as though leadership meant never letting them see you bleed. But Jesus never modeled that kind of leadership. So why should I?
He wept. He sweat blood. He was betrayed, exhausted, misunderstood, and still chose to love.
That’s leadership. It’s not the filtered, staged version of leadership either. It’s the kind that bleeds grace.
So here’s where I’m landing these days: Leaders aren’t called to be impressive. We’re called to be honest.
When you stop pretending to have it all together, people stop pretending too. And the cool part is, that’s when discipleship actually happens. It’s not when we hand out carefully crafted bullet points on leadership, but when we invite people to watch us wrestle with obedience, failure, and hope.
I’ve led well and led poorly. I’ve prayed hard and still felt dry. I’ve seen God move powerfully and then wondered why He felt silent the next day.
But through it all, I’ve learned that faith doesn’t thrive in perfection. It grows in the cracks. The broken places in our lives that look barren and yet are the perfect places for light to poke through.
I think of stained glass and how the broken shards of glass are the ones that cast the most amazing light refractions. The same is true for us. When we let the cracked parts of our lives become exposed to the grace of God, then the light of his presence refracts into the lives of those where we live, work, and play.
So if you’re leading anything. Yeah anything! From a church to a business even a family listen up: You don’t need to be perfect. You just need to be present.
Show up. Tell the truth. Repent quickly when you mess up. Laugh often. Admit when you’re wrong. That’s leadership that looks like Jesus. And that’s the kind of faith the world actually needs.
Coming up later this week:“Blowing Leaves and Remembering Grace” a post from the dirtier, simpler side of life where God keeps reminding me He’s not afraid of a mess.
We don’t need more impressive leaders. We need more wholehearted ones.
I’m reading the book Daring Greatly and it’s been an eye opening read so far. Admittedly, I’m not too far into the book but this felt like something I had to put in my own words.
Too many of us lead from scarcity. We’re constantly chasing the next metric, afraid of disappointing people, afraid of being exposed as not enough. But what if the best thing you brought to your team, your church, your family… isn’t perfection, but presence?
That’s the heart of wholehearted leadership. It’s showing up fully human and leading from grace instead of fear.
Here are ten traits the author suggests mark leaders worth following. Each one is a tension: something to cultivate and something to let go of.
1. Cultivate Authenticity and Let Go of What People Think
People don’t follow titles. They follow realness. Stop performing. Start showing up as your actual self. Vulnerability isn’t weakness. It’s credibility.
2. Cultivate Self-Compassion and Let Go of Perfectionism
Perfection is the fastest route to burnout. Grace builds resilience; shame builds walls. Lead yourself with the same kindness you preach to others.
3. Cultivate a Resilient Spirit and Let Go of Numbing
Leaders hurt. That’s part of the deal. The difference between leaders who last and those who quit isn’t pain. It’s whether they process it or hide from it. So it’s okay to hurt. Just call it what it is and grow through the pain.
4. Cultivate Gratitude & Joy and Let Go of Scarcity
Scarcity says “there’s never enough.” Gratitude says, “God’s already provided.” Joy isn’t naive. It’s rebellion against cynicism.
5. Cultivate Faith & Intuition and Let Go of Certainty
Control is comforting, but it kills creativity. Faith requires movement without a road map. Trust God more than your spreadsheets and formalized plans.
6. Cultivate Creativity and Let Go of Comparison
Comparison steals contentment. You can’t lead freely while staring sideways. Be faithful to your calling, not another person’s highlight reel.
7. Cultivate Play & Rest and Let Go of Exhaustion as a Badge of Honor
Busyness isn’t a fruit of the Spirit. Leaders who never rest eventually have nothing left to give. Sabbath is your strongest leadership strategy.
8. Cultivate Calm & Stillness and Let Go of Anxiety as a Lifestyle
Anxious leaders create anxious teams. You set the tone. Lead from peace, not panic.
9. Cultivate Meaningful Work and Let Go of “Supposed To”
Purpose beats pressure. Don’t build a life around expectations. Build it around calling. Do the work that matters most. I try to live by the motto of only do what only you can do. I heard that at a conference years ago. It’s been a game changer for me most days.
10. Cultivate Laughter, Song, & Dance and Let Go of Control
If you’ve forgotten how to laugh, you’ve forgotten how to lead. Joy is magnetic. Freedom is contagious. People follow leaders who are alive.
Leading from Enough
Wholehearted leadership isn’t about soft feelings or sentimental slogans. It’s about leading from a place of enoughness. I know it’s not a word. It’s the realization that you are the one who is there for such a time as this.
When you stop hustling for worth and start leading from grace, everything changes. Your tone, your presence, your team’s trust, and your own soul. It’s like you and your team become brand new people.
Because the truth is, your people don’t need a perfect leader. They need a whole one.
There’s a shift coming to the blog next month. Don’t worry! I’m not selling essential oils or becoming one of those skinny jeans wearing worship pastors. No offense to my essential oil (aka voodoo oil friends) or you skinny jean wearing peeps! Those have their place but it isn’t likely on this blog. I’m just tired of pretending that “pastor” is the only hat I wear.
Somewhere between the pulpit and my zero turn mower, God’s been reminding me that faith isn’t meant to live only in the sanctuary. It’s also in the sweat, the soil, and the sips around a backyard firepit.
For years, derrickhurst.org has been mostly ministry-focused. Like sermons, church leadership, discipleship, the usual “pastor stuff.” And I love that. I’ll keep writing about faith and leadership because that’s who I am. But it’s not all that I am.
I’m also a guy who loves lifting weights and the way it preaches discipline louder than most devotionals.
I’m a guy who likes a good bourbon not for escape, but because slowing down long enough to actually taste something is a spiritual act these days.
I’m a guy who finds God in dirt under the fingernails, broken tools, and the slow redemption of a half-dead garden.
And maybe that’s the point, God is just as present in the mundane as He is in the miraculous. So, you’re going to start seeing a bit more of those mundane moments here. Posts about working out, working the land, coaching pastors, and wrestling with what discipleship actually looks like when the Bible closes and Monday shows up.
If that sounds too “earthy” for you, there are more blogs out there. But I’d love to have you hang around anyway. You might find that Jesus was far more earthy than we like to admit.
If that sounds like your kind of thing, then good. Grab your coffee (or whatever’s in that cup, depending on the hour), and let’s dig into what a full life of faith really looks like.
Because following Jesus was never meant to fit neatly in a church bulletin. It’s meant to invade everything from the gym to the garden to the glass in your hand.
So we’ll see you in a week or so with a little different focus and a better rhythm. Until then meet someone new. Share your name and one thing unique about yourself. Then see where the conversation goes. You might be surprised how who you are actually is interesting to someone new.
Thought for today: life would be way less stressful if more of us just learned how to stay in our own lane.
That’s not just me saying it. Heck it’s not even original to me. Even the Bible, you know the dusty book on grandma’s coffee table? Even the Bible lays it out in 1 Thessalonians 4:11: “Make it your ambition to lead a quiet life, mind your own affairs, and work with your hands.”
Translation? Stop obsessing over what everybody else is doing. Stop replaying your old mistakes like it’s some greatest hits album. Stop living in other people’s drama like it’s your favorite Netflix series. I mean seriously people!
Why is this so hard?
I think for some people drama feels exciting. Complaining has become a new version of therapy. Gossip gives the illusion that we’re powerful or something. But there’s a problem with all of these lines of thinking. Not one of these ways of living moves your life forward at all. You will stay stuck either in your own past life of regrets or in someone else’s life that wouldn’t fit you well anyway!
Think about it:
If you spent half the time working on your goals that you do ranting online, your life would look a whole lot different.
If you put the energy you waste trash-talking others into building something productive, you’d actually have something to show for it. Something more than high blood pressure and fewer friends.
If you dropped the baggage from your past instead of dragging it around like a dead body, you’d actually have room for something better in your life.
Here’s the point:
Minding your own business isn’t boring. It’s actually freeing. It means you’re not chained to someone else’s drama or your own regrets. You can finally focus on building a life that matters.
So maybe the smartest move you can make today is this: Close the gossip tab. Quit rehashing the past. Get to work on the stuff that actually makes your life better.
The world doesn’t need more complainers. It needs more people who are actually living.
Some people want to know why I haven’t addressed the assassination of Charlie Kirk from the pulpit. Let me be blunt: it’s not because I don’t care. I care deeply. The death of any human being, especially someone who sought to serve God, is tragic. But my calling as a pastor is not to turn the pulpit into a press conference for my opinions.
Lutherans have long held to what’s called the theology of the two kingdoms. God rules the world in two ways: through the kingdom of the temporary (government, civic life, law) and the kingdom of the eternal (the Gospel, forgiveness, eternal life). Both belong to God. But they are not the same. And when pastors confuse the two, the Church loses its voice.
Here’s the truth: I will not hijack Jesus’ pulpit to carry water for any political agenda – left or right. That’s not what I was ordained to do. I don’t preach left or right. I preach the hands of a Savior stretched out on a cross, reaching to the left and to the right, to forgive us all.
Do I think Charlie Kirk’s death is horrific? Yes. Do I think the endless stream of abortions, suicides, wars, and injustices are also horrific? Absolutely. Which one deserves more outrage? That’s a political debate. But the pulpit is not a podium for outrage. The pulpit is the place for Christ crucified for sinners, for the broken, for all of us.
If you want political hot takes, there are endless pundits who will give them to you. If you want to know where I personally stand, we can sit down and talk. But if you want the living Word of God, the one thing that actually saves, you’ll hear it every Sunday from this pulpit, unfiltered and undistracted by the latest headlines.
It doesn’t mean that I’m avoiding hard truths by any means. Because we can head on address the truths of this world in winsome ways without calling on names other than the name of Jesus. We can decry violence because that’s what Jesus did. We can serve our neighbors because that’s exactly what Jesus did. We can embrace our neighbors regardless of walk of life, because that’s what Jesus did.
We can do all of these things without standing on the temporary ground of political debates. So yes, I do have very strong opinions. I will gladly share those with inquiring minds in one on one settings when the invitation arises. I have thoughts but rarely do people ask about those thoughts.
Friends at the end of the day, kingdoms rise and fall, voices rage, and leaders die. But only one Word endures forever. And that’s the Word I am called to preach. That’s the Word that I will continue to proclaim. That’s what FREEDOM in the FAITH looks like.
If you’re planting a church, leading a growing congregation, or simply longing to see your city reflect the love of Jesus, hear this: your prayers need to come with feet attached.
We talk about being the light of the world. But light only matters when it’s positioned where darkness is already present. That’s neighborhoods, schools, city halls, and local nonprofits. These are the places where life is messy, complicated, and often desperate for hope.
The question is: how do you move from good intentions to real impact? It’s actually far more simple than we might realize. You go to the people who are already shaping your city and you show up.
Step 1: Start With Relationships
You can’t build a community partnership with an email or a flyer. Relationships are forged over tables, coffee, shared stories, and honest conversations. That means scheduling time with people. People like:
Your mayor or city council
School principals and superintendents
Local business owners
Police and fire leadership
Nonprofits already serving the community
And when you sit down, don’t pitch. Don’t lead with, “Here’s what we can do for you.” Lead with:
“Where do you see the biggest needs in our city?”
“What challenges are keeping families or neighborhoods from thriving?”
“How can a church like ours come alongside the work you’re already doing?”
The answers will be a roadmap and frankly a wake-up call.
Step 2: Listen, Then Act
Listening isn’t passive. It’s the first step toward kingdom-aligned action. When you hear the heartbeat of your city, you start to see patterns: maybe youth need mentoring, single parents need support, or elderly neighbors are isolated.
From there, you don’t just talk about helping. You actually mobilize your church. That might mean:
Launching tutoring programs or after-school activities
Hosting community service days or neighborhood cleanups
Partnering with local nonprofits on food, clothing, or mentorship initiatives
Providing space for civic meetings or family workshops
Each of these steps isn’t just community service. It’s the Gospel in action. People see Jesus in the care, in the presence, in the hands willing to serve.
Step 3: Be Consistent, Not Opportunistic
A one-time event doesn’t build trust. Showing up consistently does. The church that wants to see Jesus’ love transform a city absolutely has to:
Keep showing up at the right tables
Follow through on commitments
Celebrate wins with community partners
Keep learning and adjusting based on the needs of real people
Consistency communicates: we’re not here for headlines. We’re here for people.
Step 4: Invite Others to Join
The power of the church is not in one pastor, one planter, or one congregation. It’s in the body of Christ moving together. Invite your leadership team, small groups, and members to participate. Mobilize volunteers with a clear purpose, not just busywork.
Encourage people to use their gifts: carpentry, mentoring, teaching, cooking, or simply listening
Make service personal: connect volunteers directly with real families, kids, or neighbors
Share stories: when people see the impact, they’re inspired to engage even more
Step 5: Measure Kingdom Impact, Not Just Attendance
Church planting (church in general) and community work isn’t about filling pews. It’s about transforming neighborhoods and lives. Ask yourself:
Are families more supported?
Are kids thriving?
Are neighborhoods safer and stronger?
Are people seeing Jesus in tangible ways?
If the answer is yes, your church isn’t just existing. It’s advancing the Kingdom.
A Bold Challenge
Stop waiting for permission. Stop waiting for the perfect program. Stop waiting for everything to line up.
Go meet your mayor. Sit with your principal. Show up where the people are. Ask questions. Listen. Serve. Repeat.
When you lead this way, your church won’t just be a building on a corner. It will be a force for transformation, a living expression of Jesus’ love breaking into your city, one relationship at a time.
We are drowning in a culture of violence. From school shootings to political hatred, from homes torn apart to neighborhoods living in fear – it’s everywhere. And it’s not just “out there.” It’s here. It’s in our backyards and workplaces. It’s in our communities and even in our neighborhoods.
Kids are growing up without dads and moms. Wives are burying their husbands. Families are shattered, futures stolen. And for what? Because we’ve convinced ourselves that if someone thinks differently, votes differently, believes differently, or looks differently they’re disposable.
So here it is as plain as I can say it: disagreement is not a license to destroy. Having a different opinion is not an invitation to yell, dehumanize, or harm.
It’s time to stop hiding behind screens. Time to stop shrugging our shoulders like nothing can change. It’s time to be human again. To remember that every person carries the image of God. To teach our kids that compassion is stronger than cruelty. To choose peace not because it’s easy, but because violence is destroying us.
Talking isn’t enough anymore. We must live differently. We must love differently. We must fight for life, not take it away.
Because this world doesn’t need more rage. It needs more courage, more kindness, and more humanity.
