Learning from Mistakes

There were several mistakes in the early years of introducing the Lay Pastors Ministry, and these experiences taught me valuable lessons.

The first occurred in the church where I served as an associate pastor. Shortly after I translated Dr. Melvin’s first book, Can the Pastor Do It Alone?, into Korean, our senior pastor asked me to train laypeople for pastoral care. The training was announced to the congregation, and about nineteen people enrolled. It was the first Lay Pastors training I had ever conducted.

After completing the training, we organized the ministry according to the principles in the textbook. The newly trained Lay Pastors began caring for their fellow members. They were highly motivated and eager to serve. In fact, they became so active that it surprised everyone. The church had never experienced this level of lay involvement before. While this enthusiasm was encouraging, it also made the senior pastor uncomfortable. He had not expected such a rapid mobilization of lay leaders, and he became concerned about how this new ministry would affect the church.

Another mistake followed immediately after the training. According to the Lay Pastors Ministry model, those who complete the training should be publicly commissioned during a worship service and receive their certificates before the congregation. Public commissioning is important because it officially recognizes their calling and gives the congregation confidence in their ministry.

However, our senior pastor decided not to hold a public commissioning service. Instead, he invited each trainee to his office individually and privately presented the certificate. Looking back, it was a remarkable scene.

I understand why he made that decision. He may have been concerned that members who had not received the training would feel excluded or disappointed. Perhaps he also viewed the Lay Pastors Ministry as simply another church program rather than a ministry that equips believers according to God’s calling.

Unfortunately, the consequences were significant. Because the Lay Pastors were never publicly commissioned, they were never publicly recognized. Without that recognition, it became difficult for them to minister confidently within the congregation. Gradually, the ministry lost momentum and eventually closed down.

Even today, many people from that church express regret that the ministry ended so quickly. They believe God gave the church a unique opportunity to grow, strengthen pastoral care, and develop mature lay leadership, but the opportunity was missed.

God sometimes opens a special window of opportunity. Those moments do not come indefinitely. When God provides such an opportunity, we should respond with faith and courage rather than hesitation.

A similar situation occurred in another church. Once again, I trained a group of laypeople who became highly motivated and were ready to begin serving immediately. However, the pastor was not ready to commission them.

He told me, “Before commissioning them, I want to go to the prayer mountain and seek God’s guidance.”

One month later, I called him and asked whether the commissioning had taken place. He replied that he was still praying. Another month passed, and I called again. His answer was the same—he was still praying. Eventually, the commissioning never happened.

The trainees were prepared. Their hearts were ready. They were waiting for the door to open, but it never did. As a result, the opportunity passed, and the ministry never began.

These experiences taught me an important lesson: training alone is not enough. The pastor and church leadership must also be prepared to embrace the vision, publicly affirm the ministry, and release trained people into service. When training, commissioning, and leadership support work together, the Lay Pastors Ministry can flourish. When any one of these elements is missing, even well-trained and highly motivated people may never have the opportunity to fulfill the ministry God has prepared for them.

You don’t have to suffer on purpose, and you don’t have to make mistakes on purpose. But who in the world does not make mistakes? Mistakes are simply part of being human.

The interesting thing about mistakes is that we often do not recognize them when they happen. At the time, we may think our words are right, our actions are justified, and our attitudes are appropriate. Only later, when we look back, do we realize, “That was a mistake.”

We make mistakes in our words, in human relationships, in teaching, in our attitudes, in our relationships with relatives, in our families, and even in raising our children. We can make mistakes with our parents, too. Now that I look back on my own life, I realize that I also did things that were wrong toward my parents. At the time, I may have thought they were simply words or actions that were justified. But looking back, I recognize them as mistakes.

We make mistakes when we are young. We make mistakes in middle age. And even in old age, we continue to make mistakes.

The important question, then, is not whether we make mistakes, but what we do when we recognize them.

When we are young, some mistakes can continue to affect our lives for many years. Acknowledging them and accepting responsibility can be painful. Sometimes there is a price to pay. There may be embarrassment, damaged relationships, or consequences that we cannot easily avoid.

Yet acknowledging our mistakes can make us wiser, mentally healthier, and more mature. It can benefit almost every area of our lives.

Therefore, I believe that acknowledging a mistake is one of the first steps toward growth.If we refuse to admit that we made a mistake, we cannot take the next step. In fact, refusing to acknowledge a mistake can become another mistake in itself.

Why Is It So Difficult to Admit Our Mistakes?

Why can’t we admit our mistakes easily?

Perhaps it is because we are afraid of what will happen after we admit them. We worry about how other people will see us. We fear losing our reputation. We may also fear the consequences we will have to face.

There is a social perception that when we make a mistake, we must pay a price. Because of this, sometimes we would rather defend ourselves than admit that we were wrong.

But whenever we make a mistake, two realities come to us.

First, we have an opportunity to admit the mistake and learn from it.

Second, we may have to pay a price for the mistake.

There is often tension between these two realities. We want to learn, but we are afraid of the cost. We want to admit the truth, but we are afraid of what admission may bring.

That fear can prevent us from growing.

Mistakes in Another Culture

I think this becomes even more complicated when we live and work in another culture.

When I first came to Kenya, I made many mistakes. At the time, I often thought my words and actions were natural and clearly justified. But as I look back now, I realize that some of them were mistakes.

There were times when I yelled at school staff. There were times when I was too harsh with people working for the school. There were also times when I was unkind to people in the neighborhood.

Why did I behave that way?

Partly because I was not accustomed to the culture. I was seeing situations through the eyes of my own cultural background. What seemed natural to me was not necessarily natural or appropriate to the people around me.

Living in another culture teaches us an important lesson: what we believe is obviously right may not always be right in another cultural context.

Looking back, I am grateful that I can recognize some of those mistakes now. I cannot change what happened, but I can learn from it.

Perhaps that is one of the purposes of looking back on our lives.

We do not look back simply to regret our mistakes. We look back so that our mistakes can become teachers.

A mistake that we refuse to acknowledge can continue to control us. But a mistake that we acknowledge, learn from, and take responsibility for can become a source of wisdom.

We cannot live without making mistakes.

But we can choose what our mistakes will become:

a burden that follows us, or a lesson that makes us wiser