In April 2009 I left a growing and rewarding 11-year career in marketing/business to become the lead pastor of a church that my wife and I and several others had started 4 years earlier. It was a decision that took a few years to make; one that I made with much trepidation.
For me, it was a full-on risk. And I had many reasons NOT to take it.
- I could fall on my face. Truth be told, I had never planned on becoming a pastor. I really did not know what I was doing and had received no formal education or training for it (up to that point). Furthermore, the church was still very fledgling - it couldn’t survive its new (and only) pastor stumbling and fumbling his way through.
- The pay cut. I’d like to tell you this didn’t matter, but it did. My salary had grown every year that I worked, and it had more than doubled in the most recent 3 years. We had a mortgage and my wife had put her teaching career on hold to stay home with our two (soon to be three) kids. And I was going to take a drastic pay cut and get off the up-and-to-the-right income curve.
- The status change. Again, I’d like to say I was very secure in who I really was deep down, but I wasn’t. Moving from a generally well-regarded role as a marketing executive to, well, a profession that shows up on the “least respected” list (at least in Canada) regularly was not a change I was relishing.
I know, these are very self-centred. I’m just being honest.
A decision like this was mixed with virtue and vice, with nobility and cowardice, with love and selfishness.
So it took me a while to finally make the jump.
The reason I was slow to make it was the same reason why many people are reluctant to take risks:
Sounds obvious, but it’s true. If what we gain from a risk is visibly and obviously and quantifiably better than what it will cost us, we will make that decision every time.
That’s just common sense. That’s good business. That’s logical. But that’s not a risk.
When the things we will have to give up, invest, sacrifice or deprive ourselves of feel very heavy in our hands, and the things we will gain seem uncertain, insubstantial or unsavoury, it will be very hard to risk.
For me, I was over-valuing income. I was over-valuing reputation and “success”. I was over-valuing the career I had built.
And I was under-valuing the learning and growth that comes from failure and perseverance. I was under-valuing the fulfillment that comes from serving others. I was under-valuing the adventure of seeing God provide for what we needed.
Today, on the other side of that risk, what I had to give up seems much smaller. And what I have gained I would never trade now.
👉🏽I have a deep sense of purpose in my life.
👉🏽My kids and my wife are an integral part of my work (this is their church too!)
👉🏽I have gotten a front row seat to see incredible transformation in people’s lives
👉🏽I have changed so much as a person…for the better.
But the truth is, no one could have convinced me of that before I took the risk. I had to take the leap and see for myself.
There is a unique method of catching monkeys in South America. They hollow-out a coconut with a small hole, just big enough for them to reach inside and grab a treat like nuts or fruit. Once the monkey reaches in and the hand is clenched around the prize, it becomes too large to pull back through the hole. The monkey refuses to let go, even though holding on keeps it trapped.
As humans, we often fall into the same trap. Whether it’s a comfort zone, fear, or outdated beliefs, we cling to what feels safe, even if it holds us back. But true growth comes when we have the courage to let go—freeing ourselves to reach new opportunities and possibilities. Oftentimes that requires us to release what we’re gripping tightly is the only way to move forward.
Ask yourself:
👉🏽What do I have in my hands that would feel hard to give up?
👉🏽Some income?
👉🏽Reputation/Status?
👉🏽Familiarity with what I know and have built?
👉🏽Feeling of being very competent?
👉🏽Is any of this keeping me from a decision I could/should make (about career, education or investments)?
Consider this: What you have now in your hands was likely gained through one (or several) risks you took in the past. Looking back, what you sacrificed perhaps seems small now. And, like me, what you’ve gained you’d never trade now.
But risk is a way of life. It’s not something we’re meant to stop doing. It’s part and parcel of the life of adventure, the life of faith, and (possibly) the path of joy.
