Expired Fruit: Why Past Faithfulness Doesn’t Excuse Present Dysfunction

As discussed in my last post, there is a difference between honoring leadership and respecting image preservation.

While Scripture commands us to respect those who labor among us, it also refuses to place any leader beyond examination, correction, or accountability. Somehow, in many churches, ministries, and organizations, we’ve managed to preach the first half while burying the second, using “protect the anointing” phraseology as an umbrella where insecurity, favoritism, micromanagement, even misconduct are tolerated.

But it usually doesn’t start there.

Most toxic cultures don’t begin with self-serving intentions. They begin with leaders who once did tremendous good.

Perhaps they pioneered something meaningful. Maybe they sacrificed deeply. Maybe they built ministries, companies, schools, nonprofits, or movements that changed lives. Maybe they weathered storms that others never saw.

All of that can be true.

But yesterday’s faithfulness does not exempt today’s behavior from scrutiny.

Past fruit is not a lifetime immunity badge. No organization is above the law. No leader is above correction. No “good old days” testimony can serve indefinitely as a veil covering present dysfunction.

The danger emerges when the narrative becomes: “Look at all the good they’ve done.”

As though that somehow settles every concern. As though the people closest to the problems simply lack perspective. As though those asking questions are disloyal. As though silence is maturity.

It isn’t.

Because the moment preserving an image becomes more important than pursuing truth, the culture has already begun to drift.

Jethro Saw What Moses Couldn’t

One of the most overlooked leadership moments in Scripture comes in Exodus 18.

Moses loved God. Moses was called. Moses had demonstrated extraordinary faithfulness. Yet Jethro looked at him and essentially said: “What you’re doing isn’t working.”

“What you are doing is not good. You and these people who come to you will only wear yourselves out.” (Exodus 18:17-18)

Imagine that.

Moses—the man through whom God parted the Red Sea—was told that his leadership structure was unsustainable. Jethro wasn’t dishonoring Moses. He was protecting both Moses and the people.

He recognized something leaders often miss when responsibility concentrates at the top: The people suffer.

Jethro’s solution wasn’t blind loyalty. It wasn’t, “Everyone just support Moses harder.” It wasn’t, “Stop questioning and trust the process.”

It was accountability through structure. Shared responsibility. Distributed leadership. Healthy support systems.

“Select capable men from all the people—men who fear God, trustworthy men who hate dishonest gain—and appoint them…” (Exodus 18:21)

Notice the qualifications. Capable. God-fearing. Trustworthy. Hating dishonest gain. Not merely agreeable. Not merely loyal. Not merely protective of leadership’s reputation.

Their purpose wasn’t to become professional yes-men. Their role was to support both Moses and the people.

Middle Managers Aren’t Human Shields

Healthy organizations understand this instinctively.

Middle leadership exists to bridge. To advocate upward and downward. To communicate concerns from subordinates to executives. To translate vision into practical care. To equip teams. To identify problems before they become crises.

They do not exist to absorb dysfunction generated from above. Nor do they exist to suppress concerns to preserve appearances.

If every concern raised by frontline employees dies in middle management because someone fears upsetting the Executive Director, CEO, President, Senior Pastor, or founder, then leadership has ceased to function as stewardship and has become image management.

The lower half of an organization cannot continually compensate for the gaps left by the upper half. Subordinates cannot indefinitely provide the emotional intelligence, conflict resolution, humility, and accountability that senior leadership refuses to exercise.

People eventually run out of capacity. They burn out. They disengage. Or they leave.

“If You Don’t Like It, Leave”

Sometimes that’s exactly what happens.

And ironically, unhealthy leadership often interprets the exodus as validation.

  • “Good riddance.”
  • “The wrong people are leaving.”
  • “God is purging the disloyal.”
  • “They couldn’t handle authority.”

But what if the departures aren’t evidence of rebellion?

What if they’re evidence of unresolved problems? What if sensible people with both healthy minds and compassionate hearts simply recognize smoke when they smell fire? What if repeated turnover isn’t proof of purification? What if it’s proof of suffocation?

The irony is painful.

The tighter toxic leadership closes its fist to secure control, the more people slip through its fingers. The very thing they fear losing becomes the outcome their methods produce.

Because fear can force compliance for a season. It cannot cultivate trust. Manipulation can manufacture unity for a moment. It cannot sustain genuine loyalty.

Unity Is Not Uniformity

Biblical unity was never intended to mean unanimous agreement with leadership.

Why? Because real unity makes room for truth. For questions. For dissent without retaliation. For hard conversations conducted with humility.

Paul publicly confronted Peter when Peter’s actions compromised the Gospel (Galatians 2:11-14). The early church gathered to reason together through conflict in Acts 15. Even Nathan confronted David.

Correction wasn’t viewed as betrayal. It was understood as love.

“Faithful are the wounds of a friend…” (Proverbs 27:6).

Yet some environments redefine unity to mean certain cooperation, even silence.

Don’t ask. Don’t challenge. Don’t notice patterns. Don’t connect dots. Just smile. Support. Protect the anointing.

At that point, unity becomes something entirely different. It becomes coercion wearing spiritual language.

Everyone Has a Voice

  • Will every complaint be valid? No.
  • Will every accusation prove true? No.
  • Will every frustrated employee be completely objective? Of course not.

But when concerns repeatedly surface from thoughtful people across different levels of an organization, dismissing every voice as bitterness eventually becomes its own form of deception.

Especially if those voices are consistently met with defensiveness rather than curiosity.

People can accept difficult answers.

What they struggle to accept is being unheard. A voice that perpetually falls on deaf ears eventually stops speaking. Not because it lacked merit. But because it learned the outcome had already been decided.

James instructs believers to be:

“Quick to hear, slow to speak, slow to anger” (James 1:19).

How often do organizations reverse that order?

Quick to defend. Quick to explain. Quick to protect. Slow to listen.

The Strongest Leaders Don’t Fear Accountability

The most secure leaders I’ve encountered don’t panic when questioned.

They don’t interpret feedback as mutiny. They don’t demand perpetual affirmation. They don’t surround  themselves exclusively with people who echo their opinions.

They understand something profoundly important:

  • Accountability doesn’t diminish authority. It legitimizes it.
  • Correction doesn’t weaken leadership. It strengthens it.
  • Transparency doesn’t destroy trust. It builds it.

And repentance—when necessary—is not evidence that anointing has departed. It’s evidence that humility remains.

Perhaps protecting the anointing has less to do with shielding leaders from scrutiny and more to do with protecting the integrity of what God entrusted to them in the first place.

Because God’s people deserve healthy leadership. Leaders deserve healthy support.

Middle managers deserve the freedom to advocate truthfully in both directions. And organizations deserve cultures where righteousness is valued more highly than reputation.

Christ-centered institutions should be the safest place in the world to tell the truth. Not because truth is painless. But because Christ Himself said:

“Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.” (John 8:32).

Anything less may preserve appearances for a season.

But eventually, every veil wears thin. And when that happens, the question won’t be whether concerns existed. The question will be whether anyone had the courage to listen before people felt they had no choice but to leave.

Cover graphic creds: Pkfuel.com

When “Protecting the Anointing” Becomes Protecting the System


There’s a difference between pursuing unity and using “anointing” language to pressure people into cooperation and silence.

In recent years and past assignments, I’ve heard phrases like:

“Don’t grieve the Spirit.”
“Protect the anointing.”
“Don’t bring division.”
“Stay aligned.”

Often those statements were sincere calls toward humility, peace, and healthy communication. But sometimes they became spiritualized tools to discourage honest conversations about dysfunction, leadership failures, lack of accountability, or unhealthy systems.

Either way, the impressions have sat with me over time.

Long story short: The Bible never teaches that truth-telling threatens God’s presence.

In fact, Scripture consistently shows that God honors repentance, integrity, humility, justice, and truth — not image management.

Real unity is not built on fear.
It’s not maintained by suppressing concerns.
It’s not preserved by protecting leaders from discomfort.

Biblical unity can withstand honest conversations.

Healthy leadership does not demand silence “for the sake of the mission.” It models accountability first, welcomes respectful feedback, and creates safety for people to speak truth in love without fear of spiritual labels being attached to them.

Frankly, the phrase “touch not the anointed” has silenced more hurting people than it has protected genuine ministry and work cultures.

If an organization only values honesty when it flows upward in praise — but not when it flows upward in concern — that’s not spiritual maturity. That’s control.

The fruit of the Spirit is not image preservation. It’s love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. If faithfulness by holy definition requires courage, not silence, then it’s only fair to question any vehicle seeking to quench the very thing it allegedly stands for.

Time to wake up.

Cover graphic creds: ChatGPT

The Joy Set Before: What’s Driving You Forward?

Written on 3/30/2026

I’m cruising at 31,000 feet, overlooking the spine of the Appalachians. Heaven knows I’m still stunned by this career page turn – relieved and excited as I may be.

Am I anxious? Sure. After all, this is only my second week at a new job, with many faces to meet and much to learn. At the same time, I’m reminded of why I’m in this situation – and, in four words, why any of us are here at all:

The joy set before.

For some of us, we read these words and instantly think of Hebrews 12:2: “Looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God.”

Fair enough as apart from foreshadowing samples in Psalm 16 and Psalm 110, this is the only direct mention of the phrase in Scripture.

Still, we must be careful with context. For instance, as a younger Christian, I often misinterpreted this passage, thinking the cross – the fruit of Christ’s mission – was the joy set before Him; however, as I now understand, the joy set before Christ was exaltation with the Father in the presence of a redeemed people.

You see, the ultimate sacrifice – the necessity of reconciliation – is only half the story. The other half is the eternal invitation we have with God, in the presence of Jesus, who endured the cross as a prerequisite.

Accordingly, the joy set before us should not be limited to our sins being atoned for but should extend to thy Kingdom come on earth as it is in heaven. Understandably, there is a temptation to base Easter joy primarily on the freedom we have in Christ because of His death and resurrection. Yet, if we are to grow into the likeness of Christ – if we desire to deepen our gratitude for that freedom – we must celebrate where it ultimately leads: the throne room where Jesus resides today and will forever.

What about the part where we “despise the shame” of the cross?

Again, referencing Hebrews 12, we find the answer. Christ did not detest Calvary but rather anything that threatened the joy of redemption – the public humiliation, disgrace, and intense suffering of crucifixion. In full submission to His mission, Jesus never faltered in obedience to the Father or in the intimacy that obedience required. In all He accomplished – in heart and in word – Jesus not only kept joy at the center of His hope but expressed love as the currency of every cost He counted.

Even as a child, Jesus knew where He was going. Unlike most journeys with a fixed endpoint, Christ’s destination was less static and more perpetual, saving those He loved and sanctifying them from His Father’s right hand. In essence, the joy set before Christ was His Father’s house: a dwelling from which He could save from an exalted place, draw near to the brokenhearted, and prepare a place for them.

Yes, Jesus anticipated completion (i.e., “It is finished”), but what He truly desired was to give people the opportunity to experience what He knew – to invite them into a place where pain and strife fade into glory.

My question to you, my friends, is simple: Is joy set before you? If not, what is? What is driving you, calling you, fueling your purpose?

Whatever your answers, let the cross be a prompt to recalibrate your perspective – your heart, and all the aims and burdens you carry. Do not let them drift. Instead, let them compel you to look to Jesus, not just as the founder of your faith, but as the restorer of your faith, who purifies your sin and shame, from where joy was, and still is, set before you.

Selah.

Cover photos creds: Shutterstock

Key to Freedom: A Farewell to Mercy Multiplied

My mind is racing as I behold a cherry blossom shower outside my office window. Heaven knows I will miss this visual as long as I have a career and a nameplate. With whom I’ve conversed with and to what I’ve learned within this space, I will always be grateful.

Still, the bell tolls for transition. There’s so much I wish I could say, so little time. But with wisdom in tow, often less is more. After all, this isn’t the same Cam who left his prior gig, who crashed out under the weight of burnout and bereavement grief. No, this is a new day fueled by fresh perspective and humble beginnings having aged well. With broadened scope, I proceed with gratitude, praising God for what He has done and how He has led.

Granted, this doesn’t mean I’m unruffled within the timing. After a decade in state government and four years at a private nonprofit accounting firm, I expected this season to last longer. Considering my vocational arc, an Accounting Manager opportunity in a ministry non-profit setting made sense. Yet, as I’ve sought the Lord, He has settled and focused my mind onto a critical concept – His use of the ‘lifeboat’ season.

What is a ‘lifeboat’ season? In short, it’s a relatively shorter stretch of time when God moves and matures us from and/or through chaos to sharpen our reliance. Like a bridge or connector between longer, more pronounced periods, a lifeboat season is more than a transient résumé stop but a recalibrating place where God purifies, rehabs, and in some cases, accelerates us to higher ground. If you’ve ever experienced a two-in-one type year with accelerant meeting the growth track, chances are you were in a lifeboat, a gifted opportunity to discover and recover.

In many ways, this is why I can smile when reflecting on my 28 months at Mercy Multiplied. Despite a decent amount of corporate transition during my tenure, the Lord proved faithful in connecting me to the right people at the right time. To the extent I endured, to that extent I sensed my contributions steadying the course during critical moments. The cross-departmental endeavors, the ability to improve systems, the capacity to learn from the past and on-the-go simultaneously, the privilege to mentor a younger associate, these are only a few of the perks I’ll miss moving forward.  

To Keli Haymes and Hanna Noel, thank you for not only bringing me on board but ushing me into a foreign culture with grace while helping me discover my voice. To Patrick Bates and Kathryne Coonce, thank you for the quality guidance and tag-teaming in helping me finish my first year strong. To Melanie Wise, Erin Gentry, Rachel Bedenbaugh, Lauren Hobar, Stephanie Levesque, Jessica Jackson, Julie Bowsher, Canaan Lucas, Caronda Williams, Wendy Nichols, Sharon Manuel, Shantray Smith, Cindi Hagen, Melody Morris, Brittany Porter, thank you for the ways you’ve encouraged me over the years while entertaining my budget/accounting inquiries. Jessica, to you especially, thank you for the patient partnering and bridge-building of late. Working together within God’s ministry of reconciliation, who knew how much adventure we’d find! To Meaghan Briggs, watching your leadership evolution has been a highlight the past year. I wish you nothing but the best as you continue co-captaining the ship!

To Danae Dalbey, Hayley Freels, Adelein Nichols, Ana Holland, Mikaela Moore, Pachion Moore, Katelyn Sehl, Sarah Vaughn, Whitney Robinson, Whitney Thomas, Kristen Mahy, Dawne Shew, Loryann Sanchez, Shakayla Hall, the CWC/KTF support staff, current home staff, as well as all California home alum, I salute you and your hustle in getting things done with professional efficiency! Your effort and the brightness through which it shines, both past and present tense, is worthy of applause.

To the few, the proud, the men of Mercy, Jim Melton, DJ Tidwell, Jonathan Myrick, Daniel Reed, I can’t thank you enough for the laughs, the lunches, and the camaraderie behind the scenes. No question, it was very much needed. Here’s to not being strangers as we voyage into the great beyond.

To Ashton Nawas, holy smokes, I could not have excelled without your ‘safety net’ presence. What a joy it was to work with you and the Inflammo team these past few years! Same shout-out to Blankenship, especially Tommy Wooten for carrying us through some grueling audits! No question, I learned a great deal from you and your teams in the realm of financial storytelling.

Circling back to Jonathan, words only go so far in conveying how proud I am of who you are and the character you’ve modeled since you joined the Mercy team. You can take it to the bank, I will greatly miss the collaboration, the troubleshooting, and serving alongside you in the trenches. Your loyalty and steadfastness tandem is off the charts and has been an inspiration to many. You’re in good hands with Danielle and I look forward to hearing how God uses you and Katy in the years ahead!

And so, there you have it. With a full heart and misty eyes, I sign off on this assignment. I’ve fought the good fight, I’ve finished the race, and I’ve kept the faith. No regrets, no hard feelings. Just love and simply Jesus. Time to flip the page and let the Master Author pen a new chapter.

For the last time on this ground, I toast in triumph…

Lord, have Mercy.

Dancing in the Pain: The Secret to Trusting God in the Storm (Intro)

Quick post today – archiving some thoughts for future reference per a recent conversation at work. My plan will be to build a series off this concept in 2026…

There are times in life when ‘yes’ is and will be the right answer. You may not understand the full ‘why’; the logic may trail the intuition. But obedience as goal, we will ultimately encounter moments when reason must yield to faith. Sometimes, it’s as simple as seasoned patience, waiting for an open door to illuminate the path we’re meant to walk. Other times, it’s like guided flight within cloudy turbulence, watching God correct the trajectory as we cling to Him. Either way, God has a plan, a purpose, and a promise behind the places He takes us (Proverbs 16:9, Psalm 37:23-24, Jeremiah 29:11, Ephesians 2:10).

As for the effect of these places, we must expect variability. At any point, we always have the capacity to learn and grow from something for something. To breathe is to absorb. To absorb is to process. And how we process, in most cases, inclines critical choices from trusting God in the midst of challenging circumstances to those micro-moments every day when we must decrease.

So, what then when these impacts net negative on paper and in person? What if the only meaningful consequences are confined to scars and sagacities fortified in fire? For most, if they can’t carry a positive tangible forward, then they write off the exiting season as a failure. ‘Tis a mentality of the world and wisdom of the flesh.

Yet, in truth, in the Word, and every place that matters, the reality is you can’t quantify growth in motion or scale the ripple effect a fallen face turned hopeful can produce. When lessons learned become fastened to the soul, when they click, find momentum, and plant themselves as fertile seeds, what you have is a vital, appreciable asset – one of the most important of all! Some might call it ‘addition by subtraction’ character-building or by a ‘one step back, two steps forward’ platitude. But those wouldn’t serve due justice, let alone what is full in the Lord’s eyes.

Again, you can’t measure or compute the long-term influence humility has in the wake of voids and failures. Do you have much to learn, much to apply, but have subdued the urge to stay where you’ve fallen? If so, rejoice! Shake the dust off your feet and rejoice again.

My friends, we must not undermine the virtue of endurance as God intended. Forgive the versions of yourself that didn’t know better, that didn’t have the support you needed, that lacked the safe space. After all, you can’t move on if you don’t love on and you can’t love on if you’re committed to a hardened state. Remember what you crave, God already is. So…

Don’t just get up, look up. Don’t just sing in the rain; dance in the pain. Why? Because Christ in you, you can count it all joy because who you’re becoming is far more significant than where you’ve been.

Together we will get there, one more cry and one less ‘why’ at a time.

Cover graphic creds: Harvest City Church