When the Water Doesn’t Flow: A Reflection on Grace, Growth, and Clogged Pipes

Shortly after we moved into our new home, our septic system failed. I feel confident I don't need to explain how we knew the system failed, but if so I would encourage you to simply use your imagination. Just don't sit there too long. (Pun intended) We could not find the source of the problem at first, but a reliable and persistent plumber eventually uncovered the cause and offered a solution. We needed an additional pump out back to push some of the more substantive waste further through the pipes. Liquid seemed to move fine, but since we tend to produce more than liquid waste we took his proposal and installed a smaller pump outside the bathroom to handle the problem. The solution worked.

On the way out of town today I stopped by the church building and a conversation with a trusted friend got me to thinking that I need to figure out what might be causing me to have some of my own clogged pipes. I'm not talking about physical pipes in my body so don't worry about having to read some description of my recent gastrointestinal mechanisms. Instead, I'm talking about spiritual pipes. You see, sometimes it feels like life — and even church life — is like a house with good plumbing overall but some minor issues here and there. The water source is strong, the foundation is solid, and in most places, the water runs clear and life-giving. But in a few lines, something slows the flow. You can sense it. The pressure changes, the rhythm shifts, and you know something’s clogging the line, even if you can’t yet see what or where. 

That’s where I’ve found myself lately. I noticed it several months ago and thought my plans to work it out would prove effective. Then, others began to notice, and that's what my good friend today as well as another last week, plus my family in general called out. The me I know keeps hiding somewhere for some reason, and others wonder what might be happening in Pooh corner. (Throwback reference alert ... www.fromtheporch.org) 

Back to my pipes. I hold awareness that the Spirit’s water is still running in my life and in our church, but not as freely in a few places. I can’t yet identify the source, and I’m open to the possibility that part of it may be completely in me. Honestly, sometimes that thought brings anxiety back into my life, because I sense the clog could be something I can’t fix on my own.

When that tension rises, it sometimes comes out as frustration or even anger. And I know that, from the outside, that can seem hypocritical or unpastoral and unchristian. I don’t take that lightly. I want to be transparent here. I am confessing that inconsistency and expression to the Lord and working with Him to manage those responses in real time — learning to pause, to listen, and to let His Spirit calm what my heart wants to fix too quickly. These moments are reminders that undershepherds are still sheep too, finding ourselves still learning, still growing, still dependent on grace.

The good news is that the foundation is solid, and the water source, the Spirit of God, never fails or dries up. We’re not dealing with a broken house but just a few pipes that need attention. And I’m learning that attending to them doesn’t mean forcing a fix; it means slowing down, staying humble, and trusting God to reveal what He sees in His time.

So I’m paying attention. I’m praying. And I’m asking the Lord to clear what’s clogged, in me and in us, so that the water of His grace can move freely again, bringing renewed unity, health, and fruit for Christ.

If you’ve ever found yourself feeling that same mixture of longing and frustration, take heart. The flow may slow, but the Source is still strong. And grace has a way of finding its way through.

From My Heart

I share this because I believe transparency invites grace. I also share this with some fear. Trust does not come easily for me, and past church hurt screams for me to stop typing and definitely do not post. I am choosing grace and authenticity with the hope that my church family sees me as one of them and not just as someone who shows up to preach once a week. 

Even when my tone feels heavy or my expression seems sharp, what’s beneath it is care and a deep burden of responsibility. Beneath what could be a strong and maybe rough exterior lies a longing for God’s best, not control; for life, not pressure. My prayer for us is simple: that we’ll walk together in humility and love, trusting the Lord to clear what only He can, and letting His living water run freely through every part of His house and every part of our hearts.

If anything in this reflection stirs a question or concern, please know I’m open to conversation. I welcome it actually, with the same grace and compassion I hope to offer, and the same grace and compassion I also need to receive.