Bold in Prayer, Bold in Life

Sometimes a pastor just has to do what has to be done.

Last year, I was sitting in the back of the room listening to John Weis preach. It wasn't the easiest place to concentrate. We have a lot of little children, and they make plenty of noise. That's a small price to pay for discipling covenant children, but it does make listening more challenging.

The room was warm. The building we rented, about 12,000 square feet, had formerly been a flea market. Before we signed a long-term lease, it had been a CrossFit gym, as evidenced by the thick rubber mats that still serve as our flooring. It was never designed to comfortably cool hundreds of people on a Sunday morning.

We depended on an aging geothermal HVAC system. Water dripped from pipes here and there. The giant fans rattled so loudly they sounded like they were hanging on by a thread. Between the heat, the children, and the constant white noise of the equipment, it could be difficult to focus on the preaching of God's Word.

But our people kept coming.

Watching them faithfully gather under those circumstances filled me with thankfulness. It also reinforced my resolve. We had to find a better home.

Replacing the HVAC system in a building we leased didn't make much sense. It would have been a massive expense with very little long-term return. Besides, we wanted to own a building, not rent one.

So we searched.

We looked all along the State Route 32 corridor in Clermont County. We considered buying land, but land prices were soaring as the area grew, and construction costs were even worse. Buying an existing building and converting it seemed like the wiser path.

The problem was finding one.

There simply aren't many buildings in our county that can accommodate five hundred people. We explored all sorts of possibilities, mostly long shots. Nothing came together.

So I prayed.

It's a mistake to think prayer is a call to passivity. Prayer should make us bolder, not more passive.

Years earlier, when we first came to Batavia, I had heard about a wedding venue called Norlyn Manor. Several churches had rented it for Sunday services. I had even called about renting one of the rooms back in early 2020, but we were a poor church plant and couldn't make it work.

The property stayed in the back of my mind.

It sat less than a mile from our building on nineteen acres, with roughly 21,000 square feet, a huge parking lot, and two large ballrooms that, combined, could seat our entire church with room to grow.

It wasn't for sale.

But you never get what you don't ask for.

So I picked up the phone.

A sweet woman named Lynne answered. I introduced myself as the pastor of a local church looking for space. She began explaining that they had rented to churches before.

I clarified.

"I don't want to lease your building," I said. "I want to buy it."

I told her we weren't rolling in cash. We couldn't make some outrageous offer far above market value. But we would gladly pay every dollar the building was worth after a proper appraisal.

To my surprise, she said she was open to the conversation.

That phone call began months of getting to know the owners, negotiating terms, and trying to figure out how a young church could buy a three-million-dollar property.

That was less than a year ago.

Since then, our church has raised more than $1.5 million.

And in just a few weeks, we'll close on a permanent home for our ministry that, Lord willing, will serve generations to come.

I'm grateful for the season of humility God gave us. Those years taught us a great deal. But I'm also excited to move into a space better suited to public worship and ministry.

Lord willing, we'll renovate the building until it looks and feels like a classic church.

You don't get what you don't ask for.

So be bold in prayer.

And as God uses those prayers to strengthen your faith, be bold in life.