Reflections as Belmont’s Care & Connection Pastor

When I stepped into my role at Belmont in September of 2025, I didn’t arrive with a grand strategy or a five‑year plan. I arrived with something much simpler: open hands and a prayer that God would help me love this community well.

Care and Connection isn’t a spotlight role. It’s not about leading from the front — it’s about tending to the heart of the church from the middle, from the margins, from the quiet spaces where real life happens. And honestly, that’s where I feel most at home.

1. Learning the Culture Before Trying to Shape It

Every church has a story long before you show up. Belmont is no exception. There’s history here — beautiful, complicated, Spirit‑woven history.

In those first months, I felt the Lord nudging me to slow down, to listen, to learn the rhythms of this house. Not to fix anything. Not to prove anything. Just to be present.

James says:

“Let every person be quick to hear, slow to speak…” — James 1:19 (ESV)

I’ve found that listening is one of the most honoring things you can offer a community. It’s how you say, Your story matters. Your experience matters. You matter.

2. The Gift of Being New

There’s something sacred about being the new pastor — the one who doesn’t yet know the unspoken rules, the family stories, the “this is how we’ve always done it” patterns.

Being new gives you fresh eyes. It gives you permission to ask questions. It gives you space to notice what others may have stopped seeing.

And in that space, I’ve sensed the Spirit whispering:

“Pay attention. I’m already at work here.”

3. The Heart of Care: Walking With, Not Ahead

Care ministry is never abstract. It’s always personal. It’s the hospital visits, the hallway conversations, the quiet tears after service, the coffee meetings where someone finally exhales what they’ve been holding for years.

Paul writes:

“Bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ.” — Galatians 6:2 (ESV)

That’s the job description. Not to fix people. Not to rescue them. But to walk with them — shoulder to shoulder — trusting that Jesus is the One who heals.

4. Connection: Helping People Find Their People

Belmont is a beautifully diverse, multi‑layered community. People come from different backgrounds, different seasons, different stories. My role in Connection is simply to help people find their place in the family — to help them move from attending to belonging.

Sometimes that looks like a warm conversation in the lobby. Sometimes it’s helping someone join a group or serve team. Sometimes it’s just remembering a name.

Connection is discipleship in its earliest form: “I see you. You’re welcome here. You belong.”

5. The Humbling Reality: God Was Here Before Me

One of the most grounding truths in this season has been remembering that God didn’t start working at Belmont when I arrived — and He won’t stop when I’m gone.

Jesus says:

“I am the good shepherd. I know my own and my own know me.” — John 10:14 (ESV)

My job isn’t to be the shepherd. It’s to help people recognize the voice of the Shepherd who has been leading them all along.

6. A Growing Hope for What’s Ahead

Now that I’ve been here a while, I can say this with confidence: There is a tenderness in this community. A hunger for authenticity. A desire for healing and depth. A longing for Jesus to be more than a Sunday idea.

And that gives me hope — not the loud, flashy kind, but the steady kind that grows quietly over time.

My prayer these days is simple:

“Lord, help me love this people well. Help me stay small. Help me stay faithful. And let everything I do point to You.”