This has been a traumatic week.
Death and grief have visited our community through the tragic, accidental loss of a loving husband and wife, faithful urban missionaries serving in the Brightmoor neighborhood of Detroit. Their sudden departure has left five boys under the age of 15 without their parents, and a host of family members and friends drowning in sorrow.
Many Christians are quietly (or not quietly) asking: “Why, God?”
Because in the end, everybody needs a pastor.
Not just a preacher. Not just a leader. A pastor with the heart of Christ.
As I’ve sat with the weight of this trauma—both the personal grief and the collective grief of our believing community—it hit me deeply: we are like sheep without a shepherd. The same words that described the crowds in Matthew 9:36 and Mark 6:34 now describe the ache I feel for our city.
I remember during the height of the pandemic sensing this same void. And once again, the Spirit whispers: Lord, as pastors, we must have a resolve—mixed with a Word, connected to an action—for the people.
We need pastors in the spirit of Galatians 4:19, where Paul doesn’t speak of position or prestige, but of laboring in love “until Christ is formed in you.” That’s the heartbeat of faithful pastoral ministry. Yet, somewhere along the way, we’ve drifted.
Today, many pastors have become church administrators, strategic planners, authors, influencers, bible scholars, and church planters. There’s nothing inherently wrong with any of those roles—but when the art and love of pastoring God’s sheep falls out of fashion, we’re in trouble.
Revelation 2:4 echoes in my spirit: “You have forsaken the love you had at first.”
There’s a powerful little book called They Smell Like Sheep. Its message is clear: real pastors live among their people. Real shepherds carry the scent of the sheep. These past few days, after attending several homegoing celebrations and sitting with grieving souls, one truth rang loudly in my spirit:
Everybody needs a pastor.
Not one perched above the people, but one who walks with them. Through the mess. Through the pain. Through the grief. A shepherd, like the one described in Psalm 23, who leads, restores, comforts, and remains present in the valley of the shadow of death.
And here’s another truth that pierced me this weekend:
Even pastors need a pastor.
As someone who has launched mentoring programs and worked with youth for years, I’ve often said, “Everyone needs a mentor.” The same is true in ministry: everyone needs a pastor.
A real pastor doesn’t lead with control, but with care. They don’t see people as numbers, but as souls. They are teachable, humble, and submissive. They don’t isolate themselves in pride or burnout because they know—they’re sheep too.
We don’t need to be Superman or Superwoman. We just need to be servants of Christ, not with pessimism, but with hope. Trusting Christ to be Christ and to do what only He can do: transform lives.
True pastors give more than inspiration.
They give biblical direction—even when it’s hard.
They preach truth, not trends.
Their goal is not to entertain, but to equip.
We must return to our first love—not the platform or programs, but the pastoral vocation—to love people deeply, walk with them patiently, correct them biblically, and carry their burdens when life becomes too heavy for them to bear alone.
As They Smell Like Sheep reminds us, ministry isn’t clean.
It’s relational. It’s gritty. It’s deeply personal.
This week has reminded me:
The world is full of people silently crying out for care.
Let us not forget our call.
Everybody needs a pastor.
I’m just saying… what do you think?
I'm Just Saying 