This might sound suprising since I've been preaching a long time and Good Shepherd is a large church, but leadership is probably my weakest area. A lot of you have heard me say that I'm much better at leading a congregation as its pastor than I am at leading a staff as its boss.

See, for years I have been a master of avoidance, an expert at innuendo, an artist at dropping hints. Instead of speaking the truth with clarity, I have often danced around it and simply hoped those who work with me would know what I want.

But in recent months I have been learning the power of expectations. It has been freeing as a leader to say with simplicity and conviction: "this is what I expect."

And most people want to do and will do what their leader expects.

But they can't do what they don't know.

It's my job to make that clear. So that cloudy desires become clear expectations.

Perhaps in honor of the French Open, I played tennis on a clay court yesterday.

Now, I hate clay. I have nightmares about matches that I played on clay.

It works against me on every level: because it slows the ball down on impact, it blunts the power of my serve (my best shot); because it is slippery, it makes my movement (already a weakness) even more awkward; and because it is green and grainy, it gets my socks dirty (and I value clean clothes).

But ultimately, clay favors patience, strategy, and endurance. Hard courts or grass courts (my two favorite) favor attack and assault.

Church work, I find, is more like clay court tennis. I believe effectiveness in ministry happens over the long haul. Decisions made now will reap benefits then. Despair that you deal with now will lead to euphoria then. So often it's a matter of working on that sermon when you want to give up, making that visit when you want to go home, planning for what will happen next year as opposed to next week.

Maybe I should play more on clay after all.