A few weeks ago, I was texting with a friend about this “Elder My City” project. He mentioned that I’m “taking up the mantle to lead fathers in this direction” in our homes and cities.
I remember sitting there thinking for a minute and then replying:
“Oh man, now that you say that, taking up the mantle for this topic makes me nervous. I don’t know that I’m qualified for it, but I also care about it deeply, so I will.”
His reply was quicker than I anticipated:
I read the message a few times. The pattern he recognized isn’t that I’m competent in whatever I decide to pursue, but that I pursue the passions the Lord gives me and develop competence along the way.
I replied:
“Thanks. I don’t feel that way, but I choose to believe that it’s true.”
Maybe you live in this same tension as I do, especially when it comes to fatherhood and pursuing elder qualifications as a God-fearing man. The tension is this:
There’s a gap between what you currently believe and what you want to believe.
I Know This Gap Well
And it keeps growing larger as I get older.
When I got married, what did I know about a healthy marriage? Nothing. But by God’s grace and some hard work, we’re still married 20 years later.
When my first child was born, what did I know about raising kids? Nothing. Yet here we are today with seven children.
When I started a business, what did I know about running one? Literally nothing. I didn’t even know what a business plan was. But ten years later, it was a leader in our industry before being acquired in 2022.
When I started a blog called “Elder My City,” how deeply did I understand all the theological and practical implications of eldership? Not enough. Yet I know it’s already been fruitful in my life and the lives of a few other men.
Your story is probably similar. God’s pattern isn’t always preparation followed by assignment. Sometimes it’s the opposite.
I Think God Does This on Purpose
Moses at the burning bush, stammering about his inadequate speech. Gideon hiding in a winepress, being called a “mighty warrior” while feeling like anything but. Jeremiah claiming he’s too young. Peter, the impulsive fisherman, being told he’ll become the rock on which the church is built.
There’s a pattern here: divine assignment to the underprepared.
I used to think this was about God seeing potential we couldn’t see in ourselves, and there may be some of that, but now I suspect it’s about something else:
It’s about dependence.
These assignments create a crisis that forces us to lean into resources we don’t yet possess. Wisdom we haven’t experienced. Strength we can’t manufacture. Skills we haven’t acquired.
That’s why Moses could lead Israel out of Egypt. Not because he had hidden eloquence, but because his stammering would force him to depend on God’s words instead of his own. When he said, “Who am I to go to Pharaoh?” God didn’t answer by listing Moses’s qualifications. He answered, “I will be with you.” The inadequacy wasn’t an obstacle to overcome—it was the whole point.
Every moment of “I don’t know if I can do this” has been preparation for sitting at some future gate where I’ll need to say, “I don’t have all the answers, but let’s work through this together.”
The Pattern I’m Learning to Trust
Every mission I’ve been sent on before I was ready has taught me that readiness isn’t the prerequisite. Willingness is. The determination to show up despite limitations seems to be what God honors. It’s His invitation into struggle that will form something in me I couldn’t acquire any other way.
I’m wrestling now with eldership — this biblical vision of becoming a man of wisdom and character who can serve his family and city. And I feel inadequate to it. Who am I to write and talk about it online?
But maybe this is where every elder’s journey begins. Not with competence, but with acknowledgment of inadequacy. Not with having answers, but with being willing to sit at the gate anyway, offering whatever wisdom he’s gleaned from decades of stewarding businesses and families and faith.
I don’t feel adequate to be a city elder. But I’m learning to believe what I don’t yet feel: God keeps sending me where I’m not ready because that’s where He does His deepest work.
And I’m sure He does the same with you. The question isn’t whether you’re prepared to be a father in your home, an elder in your city, and a ruler in the Kingdom to come. It’s whether you’re willing to go anyway.
