I Knew You Would Answer

For years, one verse has caught hold of my heart and won’t let go: "Let us not get tired of doing good, for we will reap at the proper time if we don’t give up" (Galatians 6:9, CSB).

I’ve never been the best at consistency, and to be frank, ministry often feels antithetical to it. We know that serving God, studying His word, staying in prayer, and living our lives consistently focused on him isn’t just a good idea, it’s necessary to become the kind of Christ follower, ministry leader, spouse, and parent he’s made us to be. But ministry itself feels chaotic at best.

This week alone, two of our leaders skipped teaching because they were still worn out from the college football opener. Your students have what feels like 67,000 activities crammed into one semester, and you’re expected to show up to all of them. Your phone never stops. Somebody always needs help. There isn’t enough time to get it all done.

The truth is, there isn’t.

We’ve been told we should pray like God is in control and work like we are. I think that’s a poor statement with good intentions. Instead, I’d put it this way:

We’re called to pray knowing God is in control, and to prioritize faithfulness in what matters most.

One of the areas that matters most is how we manage our accessibility to the people God has placed around us. Not mass texts, not blind-copied announcements, and as much as I love them, not even handwritten cards (though you should definitely be sending those too). I mean something simpler and harder: actually being reachable, and actually following through, with the people already in front of you. I don’t think this is the only definition of healthy pastoral communication out there, just what Scripture teaches and what I’ve watched hold up over years of ministry.

What makes that hard isn’t figuring out what’s good, though we do need to choose what’s best, not simply what’s most urgent. It’s waiting to see the harvest. Our hearts ache to see growth in the students we lead and the leaders we develop, and it often feels barren before it feels fruitful. As Paul put it, “I planted, Apollos watered, but God gave the growth” (1 Corinthians 3:6, CSB). Sometimes that growth shows up in two weeks. Sometimes it takes years. Here’s what that’s looked like for me.

“I Knew You Would Answer”

(Names and a few identifying details in the stories below have been changed.)

Early in my ministry, I had a policy with students and parents: they could call me anytime, and I would answer, even if it was three in the morning. I kept my phone on and next to my bed so they knew that if there was ever an emergency, I was available. Out of the thousands of students I’ve had over the years, that policy has only actually been tested a handful of times. Two of those times changed how I think about ministry entirely.

The first was a young woman I’ll call Emily, part of a friend group that didn’t much care for me. They liked to drink and party, and struggled with doing that while also being part of our student ministry. We’d lovingly talked through it more than once, and they knew they couldn’t keep doing what they were doing without consequence. The truth is, she didn’t like me very much. That didn’t stop us from connecting her with leaders she did enjoy, while I kept a healthy distance and watched her wrestle with her faith. She had the same offer everyone else did: call me anytime, day or night, if it was an emergency, and I’d do everything I could to help.

One night after a big football game, at three in the morning, my phone rang. I saw her name on the caller ID and figured it must be a butt dial. I answered anyway. On the other end I heard the noise of a rowdy party and the slurred voice of a seventeen-year-old girl: “Hey Ian... I’m at a party, I’m stuck, and I’ve been drinking. Do you think you could help me get home?”

While she talked, I was already running through which leaders I could wake up so it wasn’t one man alone picking up a teenage girl in the middle of the night. I told her to text me the address and that we’d be there. Right before we hung up, I stopped her and asked: out of everybody you had to call, why did you call me?

Her answer was simple and sobering: “Because I knew you would be someone who would answer.”

If I could take credit for that, I would. A mentor once told me a leadership principle I’ve never forgotten: not everybody has to like you, but everyone should be able to trust you. That wasn’t the end of Emily’s story either. Years later I heard she was leading a college ministry, and she asked me for a recommendation.

The second call came from a young man I’ll call Jake. At three in the morning, he called almost in tears, telling me he’d blown out a tire and had no idea how to change it. I showed up in basketball shorts and a sweatshirt to the scene of the crime. He couldn’t call his parents, because they didn’t know he was out.

Thankfully, he hadn’t been street racing or doing anything reckless. But he was out late after breaking up with his girlfriend. Turns out the only thing that can soothe a seventeen-year-old soul after heartache is late-night Taco Bell, and he’d clipped a curb on the way home.

I laughed with him, helped him change the tire, and told him that when he got home, he needed to tell his parents what happened. He was sure they’d take his car away. I pointed out that they were going to notice the donut tire either way, so he might as well tell them himself. I genuinely didn’t expect to see him again, since his parents were strict. Two weeks later, he came up to me after the service, crying, and told me that our conversation on that cold roadside at three in the morning had made him realize he didn’t actually know Jesus. He gave his life to Christ that week, and I had the privilege of baptizing him not long after.

Galatians 6:9 rings true every time I think about those two nights. With Jake, I saw the fruit of simply being available within two weeks. With Emily, it took years. Either way, I planted and watered. God gave the growth.

Finding the Middle Ground

Both of those nights were genuine emergencies, and my phone-by-the-bed policy was built for exactly that kind of moment. Most of what lands in your texts and inbox on an ordinary Tuesday, isn’t. So how does this shape the everyday, non-emergency ministry you lead? It can feel like there are only two options: become a slave to everyone’s whims, or leave people on read until you’ve quietly forgotten about them and find yourself always apologizing for never responding. There’s a middle ground.

Not every urgency is an emergency. A call or a text landing in your pocket doesn’t obligate you to answer it immediately, or to get pulled into a two-hour conversation. Whether it’s a call, a text, or an email, you’re allowed to take control of the timeline. Let the person know you can’t talk right now, and give them a concrete option: can we meet in person, or can I call you at a specific time? Ask if it’s truly an emergency. If it’s not, you can promise a callback and actually follow through.

Put the ball in their court. Too many of us act like travel agents and personal assistants to a hundred different calendars, scrambling to fit everyone in. I’m the worst at it, I’ll stare at my own calendar and still not manage the three clicks it takes to put someone on it. Instead, look at your own calendar in the moment and hand the other person your available times. Let them pick what works. You’ve shifted the legwork to them, and reduced your job to simply confirming.

Don’t put off what takes one or two minutes. With the best intentions, we tell ourselves we’ll get back to it later, and that’s exactly how people end up left on read and forgotten. An email from a ministry partner goes unanswered. A voicemail asking for information never gets a follow-up. This creates a vicious cycle: the pile grows, the feeling of being overwhelmed grows with it, and eventually we’re too embarrassed by how long it’s been to even start replying. Quick tip: pick one to three set times a day, put them on your calendar, and spend ten to fifteen minutes responding to whatever’s non-emergency. “When it is in your power, don’t withhold good from those to whom it is due... Don’t say to your neighbor, ‘Go away! Come back later. I’ll give it tomorrow,’ when it is there with you” (Proverbs 3:27-28, CSB).

If we’re faithful to sow availability, and kind (but firm) about taking control of each situation, it reaps trust, whether or not everyone likes us for it. Chasing new growth while failing to keep track of the people already in front of us isn’t a growth strategy. It’s a trade: your emotional health and bandwidth for anxiety and pressure.

Make availability and follow-up one of your top priorities. I believe you’ll feel your emotional bandwidth grow and your burdens lighten. And whether you see it in two weeks or two years, I believe you’ll see fruit born. Make availability and follow-up one of your top priorities. Not because every text deserves an immediate answer, or because healthy boundaries don’t matter, but because people need to know that when you say, “I’ll call you back,” you will. I believe you’ll feel your emotional bandwidth grow and your burdens lighten when you stop carrying a hundred unfinished conversations around in your head. More importantly, whether you see it in two weeks or two years, you may discover that God was doing far more through those small acts of faithfulness than you realized.

So here’s the challenge: become the kind of pastor people know will answer. Not necessarily at three in the morning every time, but in the ways that matter. Return the call. Send the text. Keep the appointment. Follow through on what you said you would do.

You don’t have to be available to everyone at every moment. But be faithful to the people God has placed in front of you. Plant. Water. Keep showing up.

And trust God with the growth.

Questions to Consider

• Would the students and parents in your ministry describe you as someone they can trust to follow through? Why or why not?

• Where do you most often struggle with availability—responding too slowly, being too accessible, or failing to set healthy boundaries between urgency and true emergencies? 

• What unfinished conversations, unanswered messages, or promised follow-ups are currently taking up emotional space that could be resolved with a few intentional minutes? 

• Are you willing to remain faithful in small acts of ministry even when you may not see the fruit for weeks, months, or years? What would that faithfulness look like this week?