Can We Talk? (Ministry Convos with Volunteers pt 1)

“Have you got a couple min? Can we talk?”

What happens for you when you read those words?

For me, seeing my screen light up last night, I felt a couple things…

Tired.

I had just returned from out of town, feeling like an open nerve. The reason for my travel was heartbreaking—we suffered a major loss. Even as Christians, knowing our loved ones are carried by angels and welcomed among the Saints, we grieve…hard.

Scripture reminds us that “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted” (Psalm 34:18), and I felt that closeness—but I also felt my humanity. I wasn’t sure I had the energy to be as present as this person might need.

Trust.

Ministry—and leadership in general—is deeply relational. It matters that we truly know our people.

When I saw the name, I discerned something important: this person wouldn’t have asked unless it mattered. They also knew the weight I was carrying. That mutual awareness built trust.

In leadership language, this is psychological safety—creating spaces where people feel safe to reach out, to be honest, to be human. And trust me, that doesn’t happen by accident. It’s cultivated over time, through consistency, care, and presence.

Nervous.

Even though Scripture tells us, “Do not be anxious about anything” (Philippians 4:6), let’s be honest—“can we talk?” can send a wave of trepidation from your gut to your throat.

But I’m learning that God’s commands aren’t about perfection—they’re invitations. Invitations to remember that He is bigger than the moment. That He is already present in the conversation before I ever pick up the phone.

Deep breath. 

One more for good measure.

This conversation turned out to be a familiar one in ministry. Because people experience life in seasons, and the Holy Spirit is always moving. Good leadership recognizes that nothing is truly static.

Ecclesiastes tells us there is “a season for everything” (Ecclesiastes 3:1), and ministry is no exception. People step in, people step out, and both can be holy movements.

I used to handle these conversations differently.

I would fret. I would worry.

“How are we going to manage now?”

I’d barter, plead, try to fix whatever “problem” seemed to be causing someone to step away.

But leadership...and faith...have been refining me.

Now I see something different:

Everything can be right—the leadership, the role, the fit—and it can still be time for someone to go.

And that doesn’t mean something is broken. It might mean something is being repositioned.

Here’s where it gets beautiful.

This volunteer did exactly what we hope for in healthy teams: they lifted someone else. Someone energized. Someone ready.

That’s not just good leadership—that’s multiplication.

It echoes what we see in Scripture when leaders are called to equip others, not cling tightly to roles (Ephesians 4:11–12).

Because the truth is, the Holy Spirit is not scarce.

It is abundant.

Where one person is called to step back, another is being called to step forward.

But when we stay out of obligation instead of calling?

When we lead or serve from depletion instead of joy?

We don’t just drain ourselves, we impact the whole body.

Jesus tells us, “By their fruit you will recognize them” (Matthew 7:16).

And I’ve come to believe this deeply:

Spoiled fruit doesn’t just sit quietly, it spreads. 

That’s why discernment matters.

I’ve been on a mission to live joyfully, not because everything is easy, but because joy is a marker of alignment.

Even when the work feels heavy—cross-heavy—we are still invited into a posture of life, not depletion.

In leadership terms, this is self-awareness and sustainability.

In faith terms, it’s pruning.

Jesus says, “He prunes every branch that does bear fruit so that it will be even more fruitful” (John 15:2).

That pruning can look like stepping back.

Or leaning in.

Or letting go.

And that’s exactly what happened.

By the end of our conversation, this volunteer felt relieved. They had gathered the courage to share that they needed to step away from one ministry…so they could give more fully to another.

And here’s the beauty:

Now, everyone benefits.

The ministry they’re leaving gains fresh energy.

The ministry they’re stepping into gains deeper commitment.

And the person themselves? They regain joy.

This was a hard lesson for me to learn earlier in leadership.

But because of it, something sacred is being built now...

trust.

And trust changes everything.

It means next time, it won’t take as much courage for someone to reach out.

It won’t take as much energy to have the conversation.

Because they know:

They will be met with grace, not pressure.

And when our mission is to shine the love of Christ...

those simple words, “can we talk?”

become something more.

They become an invitation.

A space where God meets us.

A space where truth is spoken.

A space where, somehow, both people walk away lighter…

and more aligned with where they are truly called to be.