Setting healthy boundaries isn’t always well received—but they’re essential for growth, leadership, and peace of mind. When people push back, how should you respond? This leadership lesson dives into why dysfunction resists boundaries and how to stand firm without guilt. Read more and learn how to lead with clarity, confidence, and conviction.

Trapped chest-deep in snow on Alaska's Valdez Glacier, I faced a tough choice: battle the freezing night alone or swallow my pride and call for rescue. With temps dropping to 12°F and exhaustion setting in, I learned a survival lesson and was reminded of Proverbs 11:2, "Pride leads to disgrace, but with humility comes wisdom."

These moments of relationship upheaval are when the church family's role becomes more crucial than ever. But how do we navigate this delicate terrain as a church? How do we avoid overwhelming people with our assistance? How do we reach out without them feeling like we are intruding in their business? How can we offer just the right amount of care and support without causing them to withdraw from the church community during their time of need?

So, how do we create a safety net that supports without smothering? Let me share what I've developed over my 25 years of pastoral ministry and the culture of care we aim to continue propagating at Newstart.

We knew rescue wouldn't come before daylight, still 12 hours away. Rick and I lay in our down bags, feeling the relentless, bitterly cold wind battering our tent. We knew all too well the fate awaiting the young climber—alive and conscious like us but trapped at the bottom of a crevasse.

Common frustrations voiced within hierarchical church structures include feeling out of the loop, undervalued, and craving a more participative approach. Discover how embracing a fractal structure can transform your church into a more agile, inclusive, and effective body of Christ.

In Guatemala, a street dog named Scar demonstrated the power of influence. The story underscores the lessons from Proverbs about wise associations and the impacts of positive and negative influences. Learn how ancient wisdom applies in today's digital age, emphasizing discernment in companionship and content consumption.

You would not be the first to wonder why I would tell this story! First, I have not pooped my pants since I was three years old, fifty years ago. I hope not to poop my pants for another 50 years. If this becomes a more regular event, it’s tragic. But if this is, as I hope, a semicentennial event, it's hilarious and needs to be told! Secondly, the dual insights drawn from this messy ordeal have a 'load' of significance, just like the unwanted cargo in my pants!

In those fleeting moments, as I had the privilege of hearing a glacier move, I realized something deep in my heart. That sound, that unique thud—it wasn't just the ice. It was a reminder, a nudge, telling me that I would have never heard that beautiful sound if I hadn't put myself in a place where I was quiet enough to listen. Isn't that true for our relationship with God, too?

Are you bored with your faith? Feel like God's on mute? Trust me; I've been there. But take it from me, and these wise words from some folks who know a thing or two:

It was as if a bolt of lightning had hit my right hand; sharp pain shot through my nerves to the tips of my toes and the crown of my head simultaneously. I felt the intense intrusion of his canine teeth puncturing through my palm and thumb, plunging through like nails into softwood. Through the pain, I mustered the focus to utter a single command, "Hagler, Aut." The obedient soul he was, he let go instantaneously.

This was only one of four spots in the six-hour climb where I had to battle back fear to make the next move. It began with having to down-climb 4 feet to the traverse route. Down-climbing is the most difficult for me because I can't see footholds, and moving my body weight down the rock face makes it harder to stop my body's momentum.

It was like my seatmates were prison guards who had hand-cuffed me to my Delta "Comfort" seat. My heart was pounding like a Sunday morning kick drum, and my thoughts were racing. I couldn't for the life of me control the flood of fear washing over me. My seat was a straightjacket. All I wanted was to escape this suffocating window seat nightmare that had become what felt to me like my prison of personal weakness.

Three hours after walking into the immigration office in Copacabana, Bolivia, and a $40 bribe later, I was finally permitted to cross into Peru on foot.

The mountains are a powerful reminder of our insignificance in the face of nature. We leaders can learn from this humbling experience by recognizing our stumbles and allowing humility and self-awareness to drive us toward authenticity and growth.