Today I am beginning a series on why Mondays can be difficult for me. My hope is that these reflections will resonate with other pastors who feel the weight of Mondays, especially those who, like me, wrestle with insecurity and the ongoing battle of wanting approval.

Paul makes it clear in Galatians 1:10 that we are to seek the approval of God, not man. He says that anyone who is trying to please man cannot be a servant of Christ. I truly desire to live for the glory of God and to let the chips fall where they may when it comes to what others think.

Because of my background and the environment I grew up in, I can sometimes blur the line between receiving encouragement and needing approval. What begins as appreciation can quietly turn into a desire to be affirmed in order to feel secure. Without realizing it, I can start looking for reassurance from people when my confidence should rest in the Lord alone.

So from time to time, I want to share specific struggles I face as a pastor on Mondays. First, as a way of honestly releasing what is going on in my own heart. And second, in hopes that it might encourage others who fight similar battles, so that God would be glorified and His people strengthened. Lord willing.

So what do I mean by insecure reflections? I mean the kinds of thoughts and evaluations that are shaped by self-doubt, a fear of not measuring up, or uncertainty about my performance, worth, or effectiveness. They are the internal conversations that question whether I did enough, said it clearly, or made any lasting impact.

As I reflect on this past Sunday, I sought to encourage our church from Acts 20:7–16. In Troas, Paul gathered with believers and spoke to them at length, even past midnight. A young man named Eutychus, sitting in a window and overcome with sleep, fell from the third story. Paul went down, embraced him, and the Lord restored his life, bringing great encouragement to the people of God.

That passage deeply encouraged me, and I pray it encouraged others as well. But here is what began to surface in my own head and heart afterward, when those familiar moments of struggle set in.

Afterward, I began to wonder if I am repeating myself. I have spoken often about our need to encourage one another and to be encouraged in the Lord. Is this already a point I have belabored? Are people growing tired of hearing it? Are some quietly rolling their eyes?

Another struggle was whether some of my points were misunderstood. For example, I mentioned the danger surrounding “application.” When I was younger and first embraced Reformed theology, I often heard the criticism that Reformed preaching lacked application. Some voices in our circles responded by warning against rushing too quickly to application. The danger, they said, is that we can pursue application while bypassing the doxological heart and exegetical work that should lead us there.

I agree with that concern. We can certainly “apply” what a text commands, but if that application is not flowing from a genuine desire for Christ and a heart stirred in worship, it can become mere ritual. Application without affection for the living Christ brings about a mechanical and empty practice rather than Spirit-produced obedience and faith.

Another statement I made was that “truth doesn’t care about emotions.” That one especially lingered with me because I previously wrote a blog titled, “Truth Cares About Your Feelings.” Afterward, I wrestled with whether I had contradicted myself.

But as I reflected on what I meant in that moment, I remembered that context matters. I was addressing the danger of seeking truth merely to validate our feelings rather than to correct and shape them. When someone looks to Scripture simply to be affirmed instead of transformed, truth will not bend to accommodate that desire. In that sense, truth does not cater to how we feel.

The broader point was about sermons that are tailored to address issues not found in the passage, messages that aim to make people feel better by centering on perceived needs rather than on what the text actually says. In those cases, encouragement becomes detached from exposition. What people truly need from a pastor is encouragement that flows from the text itself, not encouragement first with the text used as a supporting detail or afterthought.

These are the kinds of thoughts that fill my heart and mind on a Monday. Was I faithful to the passage? Did I repeat myself too much? Was I off on a particular point? What did people think?

Some Mondays, those questions can feel overwhelming. When they do, I have to go before the Lord and repent of my preoccupation with what others think. At the end of the day, I must remember that God loves me and that He has called me. He is the One who entrusted me with this work for this season.

I also have to remember that God has placed faithful people in my life whose counsel I can trust. Their observations and encouragement are gifts. My wife, especially, is a tremendous help. She will lovingly tell me if I was off, even when it hurts. And I need that.

In the end, I must rest in this: God has called me to preach His Word, and my desire is to glorify Him in doing so. I may not preach in a way that pleases everyone, but in this community, this is the calling God has given me. And that is enough.

May God continue to help me as I imperfectly serve Him and the people He has called me to care for.